We Can Fix This
by solvethebomb
Summary: Quinn and Santana attempt to re-forge their bond and deal with their feelings for one another amidst Quinn's pregnancy. Blend of canon and AU. Quinntana, and it will eventually warrant the M rating, I promise.
1. Answers and Remainders

My life is fucked three ways from Sunday. I've got this endless nervous churning in my gut and my brain actually hurts. And now, as if all the crazy hasn't been hard enough to manage, I'm being forced to sit here and watch Quinn make lovey dovey eyes at man-child Finn while singing backup on "True Colors." No matter how focused I try to stay on looking straight ahead and oohing in key, I can't miss her eyes staring right past me at Frankenteen. It's so frustrating I could scream.

Instead, I grab Brittany's hand as soon as the song finishes and head straight for the Cheerios locker room to change for practice. As soon as we get to her locker, she turns and smirks at me knowingly. I feel her hand grab a fistful of my shirt and I let her pull me against her without a fight. Normally I'd be completely freaking out about someone seeing, but right now I just need _something_. I tilt my head up to hers and capture her lips with mine. I squeeze my eyes tight and press her against the locker when her mouth moves against mine. We break away after a long moment and I back away from her, my usual fear finally catching up to me.

"San…" She's looking at me sympathetically.

"I'm fine," I say airily, trying to convince us both. "Thank you…for that." Ugh. I sound so incredibly awkward. I need to get my shit together.

Brittany chuckles and shakes her head me, her eyes squinting as if she can't figure me out.

"It's not exactly a chore, Santana. I love our sweet lady kisses. Plus, it always seems to make you feel better when you get upset, and that makes me happy too. I'm like, your remainder or something."

"My remainder?" Usually I get Britt's weirdly brilliant metaphors, but this one goes over my head.

"You know, like when you do long division and you get your answer but it's not perfect so you have a remainder," she says, her right shoulder lifting in a shrug, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

I mull this over while I start opening my locker, bothered by the implication that Brittany is the leftover at the end of the equation.

"Maybe you're the answer," I say without looking away from my locker.

"I'm definitely _an _answer, just not _yours_."

Britt is already changing, but I can tell in a glance that her face is smooth and calm. She's not upset by her words in the least, while I feel like a storm is brewing inside of me that I'm sure is reflected by my expression. I look back to my locker and start pulling out my uniform. When I turn back around, Britt is completely dressed in her Cheerios uniform and is straddling the bench, just watching me.

"What?"

Brittany rolls her eyes at me.

"Nothing, I just have to look at you really hard to figure out what you are thinking. If you want to tell me instead, I won't have to watch you so closely."

I sigh heavily and start changing, needing a distraction to be able to talk to her about this.

"I just don't really know what to do with that, Britt. I don't want you to feel like you're my remainder. Why can't you be my answer?" I'm afraid I know why, and I'm afraid she's going to say it out loud now. I silently curse myself for asking that question, as if she could somehow just make herself my answer to make it easier for me.

"You already have an answer, San. Maybe someday your problem will change, so you'll end up with a different answer. But right now, Quinn is the only answer for you, even if it's not perfect so you have a remainder." Brittany's voice is soft and earnest. She is looking at me urgently, as if this is the most important thing she will ever say to me.

My entire chest constricts when I hear her name, the weight of this batshit crazy mess threatening to crush the air right out of my lungs. I close my eyes and draw a long, quivering breath. I keep my eyes closed as I whisper a halfhearted attempt to make her words less true.

"The answer is still wrong without the remainder, Brittany. It doesn't work if you leave the remainder off, because it's _part_ of the answer."

"Well, yeah. For now I'm completing your answer. But when you and Quinn finally figure out how your equation works, there won't be a remainder at all." Brittany pauses and looks into my sad eyes. I'm immediately struck by how deeply intelligent hers look right now. "You love her, San. I know you do. And I'm pretty sure that Quinn loves you too, even now, even with everything in her life going up in flames. This is going to be really hard for you, but you need to keep working on that equation, okay? You can't quit."

I'm speechless for a second. I know we don't have much time until the rest of the team starts streaming in to get ready for whatever hell Sue has planned for us, but I want to impress upon Brittany just how awesome she is. I try to steady my breathing and wait for the bands around my chest to loosen. After a couple of seconds I finally draw a deep breath and fix my eyes on the beautiful face of my best friend.

"Thanks, B. I don't know what I would've done without you these last few months. I'm pretty sure I'd get everything wrong without you. You're a genius," I tell her with a genuine smile.

"Well, duh. By the way, your execution of Operation Extinct Puckasaurus was _brilliant_, even if you were a little harsh when you talked to her."

I pick up her implication immediately. "It's her own fault! She is being such an idiot; I can't be expected to just let her completely destroy her life. It's bad enough already. And I know you think Quinn and I should just talk about all of this with each other, but we can't…especially not right now. The last thing she needs is for me to complicate her life even more, and honestly looking at her still makes me so angry I kind of want to vomit."

I'd noticed Quinn watching Puck whenever Finn wasn't looking, and Brittany found out Quinn asked that mohawked idiot to babysit with her. It wasn't hard to figure out what she was up to, and there is just no chance I could let Quinn keep a baby with Noah Puckerman. I don't like Finn a whole helluva lot, but if she insists on keeping her baby then he's the better choice to do it with. So I made sure she saw Puck's true colors with some dirty texting and getting in her face a bit about staying away from "my man," which is laughable in and of itself. No matter how many times I slept with him, I would never choose Puck to be mine. In the end, my and Britt's superb plan had been wildly successful in ending the deadbeat threat to Quinn's future (which I'm certain will be back on track after she drops the demon spawn growing in her uterus). Of course, killing Quinn's hard on for Puckerman resulted in two specific outcomes, 1) it drove the wedge between us even deeper, and 2) it sent her running right back to the jolly round giant, which led to their awkward eye contact love-making during Glee today and my reliance on Brittany to distract me from my love for Quinn.

So like I said, my life is fucked three ways from Sunday.

* * *

When I get home after our asinine Cheerios practice, I'm greeted by my mom telling me that Quinn is upstairs in my room.

"_Why_?" I ask her, and see shock on her face at my negative reaction.

"I don't _know_, mija, I didn't ask her _why_," she replies sarcastically. Her eyes are hard, and I can tell she's disappointed by my response.

Normally I'd back off at the barest hint of the Maribel Lopez glare, but it's been a shitty ass day and I'm not in the mood for Quinn's drama. I'm sure she is just pissed about the Puck debacle today.

"Well then _why_ did you let her up to my room?" My voice starts off biting, but quickly tapers off into a pathetic whine. I knew she could literally hear me pussing out, but the fact that I'd even begun to snap at her earned me the full weight of my mother's angry eyes. I look down, shrinking back as my mom sets her jaw and steps closer to me.

"Santana, Quinn is your friend, and not that long ago, you two were attached at the hip. She obviously needs you right now, or she wouldn't have come here. I know you've distanced yourself from her and I know you want her spot as captain, and I can't _imagine_ what she is feeling that she's decided to come _here_ for help," my mother chastises firmly. She pauses for just a second, and I can feel her soften before I hear her tone change. "I know that Noah was with you when all of this happened, and I know it hurt your pride, but honey…you didn't love him, and I know you do love Quinn. You can't abandon your friendship now." Mom reaches out and cups my chin, bringing our eyes level. "And I'm frankly quite relieved that you aren't with him anymore. You're smart, you're gorgeous, and you can do better." She gives me a wink and smiles cheekily at me before throwing out, "so can Quinn, for that matter."

"Yeah," I scoff jokingly and roll my eyes, shaking my head at her. I hope that I convey a nonchalance that I don't feel, my insides squirming at the mention of "loving" Quinn. At least she seems to think I'm hurt by the whole Puck thing, which I had regretted telling her, but now I'm glad I did.

"Go talk to Quinn, mija," she says before giving me a joking swat on the butt and sending me off. _She doesn't know_, I assure myself as I head upstairs.

I take a deep breath and push open my bedroom door. Quinn is sitting on my bed, watching my TV. She looks up when I walk in, but not before I see her absentmindedly chewing the inside of her cheek. Whatever Quinn is here for, she's nervous about it.

_God, she's adorable._

"Hey," I murmur, closing the door behind me. I'm not really sure what to do with myself, even though this is my room, so I lean back against the door and drop my Cheerios bag on the floor.

Quinn looks so conflicted, her face contorts like she's constipated and I can't help the single chuckle that escapes my lips at the thought. Her eyes zero in on mine then, and her features set into _really fucking angry_. Well, shit.

"I knew I was stupid to come here. Fuck you, Santana," she spits out at me and starts rising off my bed.

I'd be taken aback by her tone if it wasn't so typical of an exchange between us lately, but I still feel the heat rise in my face at her audacity. She's just sitting in my room, unannounced, and clearly expects me to welcome her with open arms _like she hadn't slept with MY boyfriend and gotten pregnant with his baby._ For all she knows, I actually care about being with Puck. For all she knows, I wasn't devastated to find out that the girl I love is pregnant at 15. For all she knows, I wouldn't do anything for her. I'm instantly furious, with both us.

"Fuck me? Fuck ME? You're kidding me, right?" I'm caught between mirth and incredulity. The emotional rollercoaster of this day has me on the verge of exhausted hysteria-I'm so tired I actually feel like laughing. I'm staring at her, waiting for her to answer my seemingly rhetorical question.

Quinn freezes and glares at me. I don't know do what she sees, but her glare slowly transforms into a studying gaze before her eyes lower to my feet. She's bigger than ever, but somehow manages to look tiny.

"Why are you here?" I try my best to sneer at her, but my voice catches and comes out closer to a whisper. _Shit_…even I can tell that I sound weak, borderline vulnerable. _Shit, shit, shit._ I try to set my features to portray an indifferent mask, but my tired eyes betray me, and I blink hard to clear my bleary vision.

"Santana, I…I want to…" Quinn takes in a sharp breath that snaps my eyes to her face. I study her carefully, confusion clouding my thoughts as I try to make sense of what this is. I realize, to my complete horror, that just being alone with her leaves me slightly breathless. I can feel myself want to move forward to comfort her, but her voice roots me in place.

"The baby is Puck's." Her voice fades out until she basically mouths Puck's name. If I hadn't already known whose baby it was, I'd have to ask her to say it again.

Quinn slowly raises her head and reluctantly drags her eyes up to mine. Her eyes are brimming with tears. I can see all of her sorrow, all of her regret, and most painfully, all of her fear. Our eyes are locked, and I'm shocked to suddenly feel that my own eyes are mirroring her watery ones. I instantly realize that I'm the first person she's told this secret to. Quinn is confiding in me, and she is afraid I'll be angry with her because of _Puck_.

"I know," I whisper without breaking eye contact with her.

Her face knits in confusion briefly. I watch her shoulders begin to shake, her body slowly being racked by silent sobs. I feel like I'm moving in slow motion, but I'm finally pushing my body off of the door.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry, Santana." Quinn's words are broken up by sobs before I'm grabbing her hands and pulling her up into my arms. She's heavy, dead weight against my tired body. Her muffled sobs vibrate against me, and I pull her more firmly against my body.

"Shh, Quinn, it's okay. Shh," I soothe over and over, my voice sincere. As her breathing begins to settle down, I am struck by the realization that I haven't had Quinn this close to me since our one and only kiss four months ago, on my birthday. I'm suddenly afraid that she will remember too, and be uncomfortable being so close to me. I push the thought aside and focus on right now.

Quinn's arms suddenly encircle my waist, and I feel her take more of her own weight until I'm no longer supporting her. Her embrace tightens, and she sighs against my neck before whispering one more "I'm sorry" and pulling back slightly to look at me.

I meet her eyes willingly and offer a small smile, watching her slouch slightly in relief. I drop my hands down to hers and squeeze them gently.

"Listen Q, I think you should stay here tonight, okay? Have dinner with us, then we can talk or not talk or whatever you want."

"Okay." Quinn's face breaks into a genuine smile that seems to convey so much more than just happiness over the invitation.

I smile back in response, and we stand smiling at each other for a beat longer than needed. I finally break our eye contact and take small step back.

"Let's go wash up and fix our faces, and I'll ask my mom when we're having dinner."

I wait for Quinn's nod before I drop one of her hands and lead her toward my bathroom. As someone who avoids emotion at all costs, this entire day has me overwhelmed and overwrought. I fight to keep my focus on _this_ moment, on Quinn and her needs, and her hand clinging to mine so tightly, wait…no, not that. _Damn it._ This girl might be my answer, but she's homeless and pregnant. I'd have to be a complete idiot to let anything happen with her right now.

Quinn looks at me expectantly when we reach the bathroom, and I drop her hand. I grab a washcloth and run it under cool water, indicating for Quinn to sit on the vanity while I squeeze the excess water out. I'm surprised by how graceful she still is, hopping up to sit lightly on the counter. At first, her gaze follows my hand as I bring the cool cloth to her face before her eyes flutter closed. I study her face with impunity, my right hand thoughtlessly coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear so I can see more of her. Her eyes are slightly puffy from her crying and her nose is a little red, but she's still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. It takes me a moment to realize her eyes have opened, and that she is watching me take in the slight chap of her full lower lip. Heat rises to my face, and I'm positive that despite my Hispanic skin my face is flushed with embarrassment. My hands drop to my sides and I move to rinse the washcloth, but I am stopped by Quinn's hands coming up to grab my hips. I'm utterly immobile, my feet are rooted to the floor, my upper body is frozen, even my jaw is locked. I register Quinn's right hand leaving my hip and taking the washcloth from my own outstretched hand, freeing me from my awkward state. I look at her questioningly, and nearly gasp when she gives me a bashful smile.

"Your turn," she says.


	2. Two Sides to Every Coin

**QUINN**

I can't believe I'm sitting in Santana's bathroom, watching her study my face while she presses a cool washcloth to it. Her gaze is clearly affectionate, if not somewhat wanting, and my heart is pounding in my chest. I don't dare to imagine that she might still care about me as much as I care for her, even if she's invited me to stay with her instead of kicking me out of her house.

Santana notices me watching her and abruptly stops her movements. She looks absolutely mortified, and it's so endearing I want to jump up and wrap her in arms. Instead I just stop her from moving away from me, and take the washcloth from her hand. She's been crying, too, and I want to show her the same care she's just shown me.

I try to be casual as I smile at her curious expression, but I feel a sudden shyness. I don't want to overstep when we're just barely being civil to each other, yet at the same time it feels like it is totally natural to take care of one another. I decide to go for it.

"Your turn," I say as lightly as I can, and slide off of the counter.

I turn and wait for Santana to take my former spot, watching as she hesitates for just a second and then places her palms on the counter and lifts herself up to sit. Her body language indicates clearly that she is apprehensive.

I run the washcloth under cool water and ring it out thoroughly before stepping in front of the effortless Latina beauty that is Santana Lopez. I bring the washcloth beneath her left eye and carefully press it to the puffy, red skin. My mouth has gone dry, and I'm enraptured by her eyes on mine. I feel my left hand come up and cup her face as I move my other hand to gently press the wet cloth to the outside of her eye. She closes her eyes briefly at my skin touching hers, and when they reopen I am overwhelmed by the sudden fire I can see blazing in them.

_Kiss her._

I give her a slight smile and drop my hands, switching the washcloth over to my left and taking the opportunity to look away from her magnetic eyes. I didn't come here thinking I'd be able to mend our broken friendship, and I certainly didn't come to make a move on her. I'd come because even now I loved Santana and my guilt was destroying me.

Coming here was an act of desperation, and I'd teetered wildly from terrified to determined from the moment I decided to knock on her front door. Thank God Mrs. Lopez had answered the door. She'd given me a gentle hug and kissed my forehead before telling me how great it was to see me again and how pretty I looked. I had wanted to cry at the tenderness of the gesture and her kind words, but instead I'd just thanked her politely and asked if Santana was home. I was actually really relieved when she told me that San was still at Cheerios practice, but that I could wait upstairs in her room.

Waiting was much more difficult than I'd expected though. I know Santana's room like I know my own, and it felt comforting to be there, but also extremely painful. I'd walked around, looking for things that had changed, looking for things that hadn't. My heart had ached when I realized a picture I'd given her right before freshman year wasn't where it had been displayed before. That had stopped my wandering, and I'd plopped myself on her bed and turned on the TV to distract myself. It hadn't really helped, and I felt like I was chewing through my lip, I was so nervous.

Nothing could have prepared me for seeing Santana come through her door. Just that afternoon she had been in my face about hanging out with Puck, and there I was, about to confess to my former best friend that I'd slept with her boyfriend. But the minute I saw her face, all I could think about was how beautiful she was. At least until I heard her laugh at me. It had stung throughout my entire body, and that flash of hurt had come out as anger from my tongue. I don't know why everything with Santana affects me so deeply, but just as her laugh had cut through my body, the unexpected hurt I heard in her voice had pulled me up short. I had no right to expect her to care about me.

When I'd finally been able to say what I'd come to say, she didn't even flinch. She'd looked _concerned_, not angry. It had crumbled everything inside of me in an instant, and having her arms around me was almost more than I could take. I was less prepared for her kindness than I had been for anger, but I was so grateful and relieved.

Now here I am, thinking about _kissing_ this girl whose empathy I don't deserve. I'm an idiot, and I'm going to ruin the tentative bridge that has finally closed the gap between us that _I _caused in the first place.

"Santana! Quinn! It's almost time for dinner!"

I've never been more relieved to hear Mrs. L's voice in my life. She might be the only thing that kept me from doing something irreversibly stupid.

I step back from Santana and put the washcloth on the rack. She hops down from the counter and holds out her hand.

"Come on," she says quietly.

I slip my hand into hers and feel a light squeeze before she leads me to the door.

* * *

**SANTANA**

Once we're downstairs helping to set the table for dinner, my mother catches my eye and smiles broadly. I take the obvious opportunity to ask if Quinn can stay over, and even though it's a school night Mom immediately agrees. When Quinn tries to say thank you, Mom enthusiastically assures her she's welcome _any _time. Somehow I feel like she's actually holding back from saying more, and I find myself briefly puzzling over what it is my mother really wants to say before my attention is pulled back to my apparently on-again friend.

Quinn looks more like herself than she has in a long time. I am saddened to realize I can't even remember the last time I saw her seem so at ease. She laughs and chats easily with my parents; she's charming without the manipulative undertones I've seen her use on so many other adults. I do my best to split my attention equally, trying hard to avoid letting my eyes linger on my blonde friend. When our plates are empty, I get up to start clearing the table, but mom gives me a reprieve from clean up so that Quinn and I can hang out.

My second wind is petering out quickly, and my legs feel heavy as I drag myself upstairs with Quinn in tow. As tired as my body is, my thoughts are racing. I'm not sure how to act when I'm alone with the girl of my dreams, but I quickly decide to be as nonchalant as possible. Just because we've gone from frenemies to actual friends, doesn't mean I should act any differently.

When I hear the door to my room close behind us, I begin pulling off my Cheerios sweats in favor of something lighter to sleep in. I catch sight of Quinn awkwardly standing by the bed, concentrating her eyes carefully away from me, and my movements slow to a stop. I am in underwear and a sports bra, and Quinn is acting like I'm naked mere inches away from her. This is nothing she hasn't seen before, and her reaction brings such a burning curiosity to my mind that I don't even think before I call her out.

"What's the matter?" Somehow I doubt I'll get an honest response from her, but I'm so mesmerized by the blush rising from her neck to her cheeks that I hardly care.

"You're beautiful," she says in a tone that conveys defiance, wistfulness, and appreciation. Her eyes snap up to mine, and I can see her battling to appear both confident and nonchalant.

I smile shyly back at her and murmur "thank you," trying to keep my breathing steady even though I can literally hear my heart beating in my ears. I know I'm an attractive girl. I am stared at on a daily basis, and I've heard it so many times that it barely even registers with me as a compliment anymore. But something about hearing those words from Quinn's lips has me feeling somehow more confident _and _inexplicably nervous.

I quickly grab us both baggy t-shirts, tossing one to her before pulling off my sports bra and yanking the t-shirt over my head. When I turn back to Quinn she's clearly uncomfortable, and it suddenly strikes me that she is really pregnant. There is a real baby growing inside of her tiny stomach, pushing her small waist out at this point. No wonder she was so affected by my body before. I suddenly feel like a jerk for looking so good, and then I feel stupid for such a ridiculous thought. Like it's _my _fault she's pregnant.

"Do you want me to leave?" Somehow I know that's not really the answer, but I can't think of anything else appropriate to say. There is too much for one person to process going on today, so I can't be blamed for my slow thinking.

She huffs and rolls her eyes, then confirms that my question is completely off base.

"You think I'm uncomfortable changing in front of you because you're all skinny and sexy?" She sounds annoyed, but also somehow amused.

_She thinks I'm sexy?!_

"I mean, I don't know. I just…assumed…look, I'm really tired and I just…I'm trying here, Quinn."

My frustrated sigh seems to soften her bunched up features. I see a slight smile and subtle head shake from her and then she's pulling off layers as if she never hesitated at all. I pull my eyes off of her and busy myself getting my things together for the next day. In no time, Quinn has her shirt on and is climbing onto my bed. She settles easily into the spot that was hers before the Ice Age began between us, now the spot is most typically filled by Brittany.

_Brittany_. Suddenly my brilliant best friends' words are ringing in my ears.

"_Quinn is the only answer for you."_

"So, um…did you want to talk?" I sit down on the edge of the bed and nervously regard Quinn. I'm so very tired, but I will deal with anything to make Quinn feel better.

"Honestly, I don't know if I can talk about all of this without getting crazy emotional and crying my eyes out…again," Quinn lets out a soft laugh when she says "again" and gives me small smile. "I don't want to put you through all of that, but…I was kind of wondering about something. How did you know Puck is the father?"

_Shit. _If I tell her the truth, she's going to flip. But I can't lie to her right off the bat.

"Puck told Mercedes, and she told me." I say it slowly, with my eyes on her face. I'm waiting for the meltdown.

"I figured as much," She says with a little shake of her head. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

"Of course." I'm so relieved that Quinn isn't upset that I'd tell her anything.

"Why aren't you mad at me for sleeping with Puck? You seemed pretty mad today about the babysitting thing even though you guys broke up, but you're not upset that I slept with him when you were still dating? Don't get me wrong, I'm so thankful…I'm just surprised I guess." She looks like she's regretting this question now that it's come out of her mouth, as if by reminding me of the chain of events she is going to make me realize how angry I should be.

She's asked two questions and my first instinct is to lie in response to both of them. _Damn it, Quinn._ Telling the truth on this one is completely out of the question, that's a surefire way to end the progress we've made so far. _Half-truth it is then._

"I don't love Puck," I say with a small shrug. _I love YOU._

"Okay, but then why were you so mad today?" Quinn is pressing for a truth I don't think I should tell her.

I sigh heavily and look down at the comforter, trying to figure out how much I can tell her without sounding crazy or ruining everything.

"Santana?"

"Britt and I figured out what you were up to…with Puck…and we thought it was a terrible idea," I pause and look at her to gauge her reaction before continuing, "So we came up with a plan to show you how irresponsible and selfish he really is." Now that I've said it out loud, it sounds kind of bad. In fact, it sounds really bad. I shouldn't have admitted this.

"Wait, what?" Quinn looks more confused than angry.

"I know it sounds bad, and I'm sorry for interfering in your business. It's just that, I love you," _Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, _"l mean, Britt and I, we both love you. We love you and we didn't want you to end up stuck here with a complete deadbeat trying to raise a kid!" I'm on my feet turned slightly away from her now. My heart is pounding, I can't believe I slipped like that and I'm also pretty sure Quinn is going to flip out at me for messing up things with Puck. _Great job, asshole._

"Thank you." Her voice pulls me up short and I turn to look at her. "You guys were right. Being with Puck would have been a disaster. I don't think anyone has ever done anything that sweet for me before. So thank you."

I'm dumbstruck for a second. She's not flipping out at me. She knows we were right. She thinks it was _sweet_.

"And, I love you too," Quinn looks at me purposefully, "You and Britt. I've missed you."

I know she means that she's missed _me._ Before Britt ever showed up, Quinn and I were inseparable for a year before everything just imploded. Now we hover in a quasi-friendship state, connected (until recently) by Cheerios, and Brittany's insistence that I stay in Quinn's life.

I give her a half smile, "We've missed you too."

I let out a long yawn, which causes Quinn to yawn as well. She pulls back the blankets on my bed and climbs under, then pats the spot next to her. _My spot._

I can't wait to tell Britt tomorrow that Quinn and I finally got started on our equation, even if it's just towards being real friends again. Tonight, I climb into my bed and turn off the light, laying my head down as my eyes adjust to the darkness. Before long, I can see Quinn looking back at me. She gives me a small smile and turns onto her side with her back to me. Without a second thought I scoot closer to her until I'm pressed up against her back. I can feel her breathing change slightly when my body touches her, but it catches completely when I slide my hand around her and gently palm her slight baby bump. I'm as shocked as she is, but I don't withdraw my hand. I lie very still and close my eyes briefly, opening them when I feel Quinn's body turn against mine. She has managed to turn herself so that our faces are just a few inches apart and she's looking from my eyes to my lips and back again. She settles on my eyes for a moment before hers flutter closed as she leans in to close the small gap between us and press a gentle kiss to my lips. It is a short, chaste kiss that says more than I had ever imagined a kiss could convey. When she leans back and opens her eyes, I can tell she is trying to gauge my reaction. Her gaze is apprehensive, so I seek to reassure her by initiating a second soft kiss. When I feel her smile against my lips I break the kiss and lean my forehead against hers, trying to calm my erratic heart. After a moment she leans back and brushes her lips above my brow, before turning over and wiggling back against me. I smile lazily as I snuggle into her and place my hand once again against her tiny bump. My smile only broadens when I feel her hand cover mine.

"Good night, San."

"Night."

Okay, so it turns out I am, in fact, a complete idiot. I have no clue what the fuck just happened or what any of this means, but I do know that I don't want to be anywhere else in the world right now. _Quinn Fabray kissed me…again. _I can feel my face still pulled into a smile as I finally drift off to sleep.


	3. The Beginning

**SANTANA**

Summer, 2008

The instant I saw Quinn Fabray I felt an actual, physical reaction in my body. We were at Cheerios camp the summer before freshman year, and I was determined to make the squad to ensure a high school career of ease and popularity. We had two different middle schools that fed into McKinley High, so there were a bunch of freshmen I'd never seen before, but Quinn was clearly different. She was prettier, more athletic, and had an instant atmosphere of control about her. From day one, it just seemed like she could do no wrong and by day five it seemed as if she was actually in charge. The _seniors_ were kissing her ass. It was pathetic, really. Those girls had survived three years of Sue Sylvester (who convinced me in about 10 minutes that she was completely batshit insane), just to bow down to a 14 year old freshman no one seemed to know.

I could tell right away that she was the horse I should hitch my wagon to if I wanted to get onto this team, run this school, and get the hell out of Lima. The only problem was that I couldn't control the way my body reacted to being around her, and it freaked me out. I had found certain celebrity women attractive in the past; I had even wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl on occasion. But never in my life had a living, breathing girl that I saw on a daily basis made me feel so completely flustered. I simultaneously wanted to be her best friend and never see her again. It was maddening, but when I weighed out my options it became pretty clear that there was really only one option I could choose. Being her friend meant being at the top. Being her friend meant getting to look at her every day. Being her friend meant I could try to figure out _why_ I was so attracted to her, so that I could eventually figure out how to _stop_ being attracted to her…or any other girl for that matter. And to be honest, I just found her so damn interesting I would've probably chosen to be her friend just for that reason alone.

So I ingratiated myself to her without being pathetic about it. We were stretching partners, I'd bring her a Gatorade occasionally if I brought one for myself, I leant her hair ties and shared my gum. Since everyone else was inexplicably afraid of her, I was basically the only one who spoke to her in the beginning. Before long we were inseparable during practice, and made plans for the weekends. We did all of the girlie shit together, mani/pedis, bikini shopping, rom com marathons. It was fun, it was easy. Quinn was much more interesting away from cheerleading practice, and a lot more open. There was a lot going on inside that pretty little head of hers, and I felt privileged to be privy to her innermost thoughts and feelings. I knew, fairly early on, that I was pretty much in love with her. I also knew that she would never think of me that way, which actually made it easier to deal with. I wanted her to be happy, and I would do whatever I could to make sure she was, even if that meant I could never tell her how I felt. So when she leaned against me during a movie, or held my hand while we listened to music on my bed, or planted a big fat kiss on my cheek when she brought my birthday present over, I would always smile and be grateful. She was my best friend, regardless of my deeper feelings.

Quinn was named co-captain of the Cheerios just before the start of the school year, alongside some senior named Nikki Lewis. A lot of people were pretty unhappy about it, including, to my surprise, Quinn. When she didn't meet me after practice I went back to the locker room to find her silently crying in a shower stall. I grabbed her and all of her stuff and walked her back to my house before asking her what was wrong, and I'll never forget what she told me.

"_I know it seems stupid to be upset because this is supposed to be a good thing, but don't you realize what this means? I'm always going to have to be perfect, because someone is always going to be watching me. There will always be someone trying to take me down a peg or two. I'm never going to get to just _be."

If I had realized then just how right she was, I probably wouldn't have told her that she didn't have to worry, because it wouldn't be a big deal, and even if it was, we were already flawless so it wouldn't matter. She'd given me a watery smile, and invited me to her house the next day so that she could show me something. I'd readily agreed, kind of anxious to actually hang out at Quinn's house for once. I'd been there maybe twice, and we'd mostly stuck by the pool, but I'd gotten the impression that her parents kind of sucked. Quinn seemed to want to keep me away from them, since we only hung out there when they weren't home.

It took me all of five minutes upon arriving at her house the following day to realize just how right I was. As soon as I was introduced, Mr. Fabray asked me where I was from with this fucking sly tone. A quick glance at Quinn told me that she was furious, but also oddly timid. Her entire demeanor was completely foreign from the girl I'd gotten to know, but she couldn't suppress a slight smirk when I launched into a polite, but pointed, explanation about how I had come to be born in Ohio, after I detailed exactly how both sides of my family had _legally_ immigrated to the U.S. and named some of the military veterans in my family and what wars they had fought in. Mr. Fabray had been all smooth about parlaying his rude question into a comment about how great of a country we live in and how families like mine are what make America so special. I instantly hated him and his patronizing bullshit.

Quinn seized her first opportunity to pull me away from her asshole dad and up to her room. I was instantly put off when I walked in. Even this tiny space that was, theoretically, hers, looked like it had been decorated with someone else's stuff. Determined to find the girl I knew somewhere in this spotless room, I wandered around silently. I felt some relief when I reached a small book case, and again when I found an alphabetized collection of CDs. I picked up a framed picture of the two of us and smiled widely, turning to ask why I didn't get a copy.

"_Oh…I, uh…I have one for you actually. I was going to give it to you on the first day of school, but…"_

Quinn sheepishly handed me the picture with a shrug, already in an identical frame. I took it and gave her a hug.

"_Sorry I ruined the surprise. This is awesome, thank you."_

"_Don't be an idiot," _she said, the corner of her mouth twitching upward, _"But_ y_ou're welcome." _Sometimes Quinn was so formal. I used to think it was an oddity of hers, until I actually came to her house.

"_So what did you want to show me?" _I'd immediately regretted asking when I saw how uncomfortable Quinn became, but I didn't know what to say to make it better.

She looked at me for a long moment before leading me over to sit on her bed and going to dig around in her dresser for something. When she found what she was looking for, she'd shuffled back to where I was sitting and sat down without saying a word.

"_You know how I moved here from Belleville?" _I nodded. _"Well, I wasn't like I am now, back then."_

"_O…kay? Middle school sucks, no one-"_

"_No Santana, I was…well…" _Quinn handed me the picture in her hand, and I stared down at it in confusion.

Some chubby girl with glasses was half smiling, half grimacing in a school photo. I didn't really get it, and then all at once I did. This girl was _Quinn_. My eyes flew up to the perfect face I was used to and saw my beautiful Quinn near tears. I looked back at the younger Quinn and tried to spot my best friend. In this second glance I'd found her, the prettiest hazel/green eyes I'd ever seen looking sad behind thick framed glasses. When I looked back at my real life Quinn, my mouth opened to speak but she cut me off.

"_This is why I don't want to be the center of attention just yet. What if someone does some digging and finds this? I don't look like that girl anymore, but I'm still afraid like her. I worked really hard to lose all the weight, I got contacts and a nose job, hell, I changed my name just to leave this in my past. That girl was alone, she didn't have friends…even her own damn family basically ignored her. I can't go back to being her." _Quinn had sounded almost angry at the girl in the picture. Her tone was cold, but it was clear she was terrified. She'd added in a much smaller voice, _"Turns out I'm really not flawless like you."_

My heart ached at her words. Her family ignored her. Her shitty father probably encouraged her to get a nose job. She was afraid. I'd thought hard before I answered, determined not to fuck this up.

"_What is your name?" _Quinn looked at me in shock.

"_Um, Lucy. Quinn is my middle name. Why?"_

"_Because, Lucy Q. Fabray, I like to be in the habit of knowing my best friend's name. And to be honest, that seems like the most important thing to me from everything you just said. You aren't any less flawless because you went through so much to become who you are, you're better for it _because _you had to work for it. No one is going to find out, and even if they do, who cares? You're amazing, inside and out, and honestly I have no problem going all Lima Heights on anyone who disagrees. But if you're worried, I'll pretend like I knew you back then if it'll help. Lord knows we're close enough to have known each other for years anyway," _I'd paused because I wasn't sure I should say what came to mind next, before I'd decided to be brave for her. _"Besides Q, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, I'm pretty sure everyone will be too busy groveling at your feet to worry about what part of heaven you fell from."_

My entirely true joke had gotten a solid laugh from Quinn that eased the tension considerably.

"_I'm sorry I lied about my name." _Leave it to her to apologize for the silliest things.

"_Really? You're apologizing? Don't be an idiot."_

Quinn's answering smile was basically all of the good things in my world. She had shared something personal, something she feared, and I loved her even more for it. I'd never been happier that I'd decided that being her friend was the only option.

* * *

Waking up next to Quinn isn't exactly something new for me, but this feels like something different altogether. Somehow during the night we've completely shifted positions, and I'm lying on my back with this gorgeous girl curled up into my side with her head on my shoulder. Her arms are tucked between us, hands curled beneath her chin. Her silky blonde hair is wild, and I carefully gather it away from her face so I can get a better look at her. The corners of my mouth twitch up immediately as I take in the sight before me. Quinn's full lips are parted slightly, and there is small line of drool trailing down onto my shirt. With her face relaxed she looks even younger than ever, the tension of her life erased from her features. While I'm watching, she closes her mouth briefly and smacks her lips together before returning to her former sleeping form, mouth slightly open. She's the most adorable human being alive, one of the very few I would ever permit to be this close to me while I slept, and probably the only one I'd let _drool _on me. I know she's starting to wake up, but this moment is so precious to me that I wish I could stop time and look at her like this forever.

I shift slightly and pull her closer to me, dipping my head to press a kiss to the top of her head. Her hair smells faintly of pomegranate, which contrasts nicely with the slight vanilla scent of her skin that I'm so used to. This is definitely different, but also achingly familiar.

Quinn turns her head slowly and momentarily presses her face into my shoulder before picking her head up in slight confusion. She pulls her right arm loose and runs the back of her hand across her mouth, but freezes when she sees me watching her. I watch a sheepish smile creep across her face.

"Sorry," she whispers.

"Don't be an idiot, drooly," I whisper back. "It's fine, lay back down."

She rolls her eyes at me and puts her head down carefully to avoid her own drool spot on my shoulder. Her loose arm now snakes across my waist and I feel her sigh deeply.

"I don't want to go to school today," she says wistfully.

"Wanna cut with me then?" I offer, knowing she'll say no. Quinn has always been the better behaved of the two of us.

"Sure. Do you think your mom will get mad at you though?"

"Wait, seriously? You're actually considering this?" I'm incredulous.

"Yeah, if you won't get in trouble. It's not like my parents are going to call Finn's mom to let her know I skipped school," she says with a humorless half-laugh.

My heart sinks at her words. I've hated her parents for pretty much as long as I've known them, but my indignation flashes through me anew as I consider what they've done to their daughter.

"What's wrong?" Quinn distracts me from the burning anger traveling through my body.

"Nothing…I'll, uh, I'll ask my mom. I'm sure it will be fine for me to stay home with you."

"Santana. You're lying. I can feel and hear your heart pounding. Something changed," she chastises.

My face flushes at having been caught and I huff in annoyance because I keep having to tell Quinn revealing truths.

"What you said about your parents. It makes me so fucking mad…you deserve so much better than that. They're just so goddamn holier than thou, and selfish, and really just fucking _stupid._" The words rush out of me before I can stop myself, and I know I've crossed a line dropping the G-D. "Sorry, I shouldn't have taken the Lord's name in vain," I mumble petulantly.

Quinn starts laughing quietly, her shoulders shaking gently.

"What?" I'm annoyed but her laugh brings a smile to my face.

She flashes me a brilliant grin, and brings her arm up from my waist to pinch my cheek gently.

"Don't be an idiot. You don't have to apologize to me, but if God strikes you down we'll know why. And I'm laughing because you're just…cute when you get all crazy fired up like that. I remember when you said as few swear words as I do, and now you're all super tough and hard," she giggles sweetly when I roll my eyes. "It's nice though, I like knowing that there is still someone who will lose their temper on my behalf."

Once again, we share a long moment of eye contact. It is broken with a sudden knock and my mom's voice as she slowly opens the door. Quinn and I shift apart marginally, but neither of us seems too concerned.

"Hey honey, are you guys going to school today? If you are, you need to get up and start getting ready."

"Actually, we were just talking about that mom. Would it be okay if Quinn and I stayed here today? I think we could both use a break." Not for the first or last time, I thank the high heavens for the awesomeness that is my mother.

"Of course. I'll call the school and tell them that you're both home sick. I expect you'll get whatever work you're going to miss and finish any assignments that are due," my mother gives us a pointed look until we both nod. "Okay then, have a good day. There's food in the fridge and I think there's a redbox movie downstairs if you get bored. Santana, you have my work number if anything comes up. Love you girls."

My mom flashes a quick smile before closing the door behind her, leaving Quinn looking kind of dumbstruck and me grinning.

"Did she say she'd call to say we're both home sick?" Quinn looks at me like she's witnessed something that defies logic. "And she said she loved us both, right?"

I study her for a second, it's hard to believe this girl could be so dense as to not realize how loved she is. She looks absolutely bewildered.

"Well, yeah, Quinn. My mom adores you."

"Really? Even after everything? The last few months…this…" She gestures to her stomach at the same time that she looks away from my face.

"I feel like it's kind of early for truth time, so the short answer is yes. Even after everything, my mother still loves you. Now, give me an honest answer. What are the chances we could go back to sleep for a bit? Practice has been bru-tal and if I don't have to go to school, I'd absolutely _love_ to get another hour in." I'm trying not to look at her too hopefully.

"Are you kidding? I'm pregnant, I'm always exhausted. But can you do something for me?"

"Anything," I say without thinking.

Quinn's shy smile is unassuming and sweet.

"Spoon me?"

* * *

**QUINN**

Summer, 2008

_"Besides Q, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, I'm pretty sure everyone will be too busy groveling at your feet to worry about what part of heaven you fell from."_

I'd laughed hard at that. Santana always knew how to make me smile when I needed it most. But I'd felt guilty at the realization that I'd essentially lied to her from the moment I met her.

_"I'm sorry I lied about my name." _

_"Really? You're apologizing? Don't be an idiot." _Santana looked almost affronted that I'd felt the need to apologize, yet another reason to love this girl.

I saw an opportunity then, and knew I needed to strike while the iron was hot.

_"Can I ask you a question, San?"_

_"Of course."_

_"Now that you know about Lucy, will you tell me your middle name?" _

Santana gave me a little head shake and rolled her eyes. A few weeks prior, Mrs. Lopez had started yelling for Santana to come downstairs, and when she didn't answer, Mrs. L resorted to yelling her name again. Something in her tone turned Santana's face nearly white and she'd jumped up to cut her mother off. It'd taken me a moment to realize that she didn't want her mom to yell her full name, and ever since I'd been burning up with curiosity and needling her. Santana had said she'd tell if I told her mine, which shut me up pretty quick.

_"Diabla," _she said somewhat ruefully, her eyes on my face.

_"Diabla? Doesn't that literally mean…devil?"_ I'd barely suppressed a laugh.

_"That it does, smarty pants. But Santana is derived from the word "santo," which means holy. So literally, my parents named me Holy Devil." _I had laughed heartily at that, while she'd continued explaining, _"According to my mother, once I started kicking I never stopped. She was convinced I was trying to kick my way out, and she _claims _she didn't sleep a full night for 5 months straight, so she and my dad started calling me diablo bebe, or devil baby. Knowing my parents, they probably would have just named me Diabla outright, but obviously I was a gorgeous little infant, so they called me Santana instead. And you are now officially the only person I've ever voluntarily told my middle name, with the true story and all," _she'd finished with a smile.

_"I'm very honored indeed…but is there an untrue version of this story?"_

Santana gave me wicked little smile and raised her eyebrow slightly.

_"When people have inadvertently found out my middle name in the past, I claimed legend had it that when I came out of my mother, I told the nurse she was fat," _Santana said casually, with a self-satisfied shrug of her shoulders.

I'd laughed so hard I'd snorted, which had caused Santana to laugh hysterically at me.

I knew on that day that I was going to love Santana forever. She was the first real friend I'd ever had, and she was the only person who made me feel genuine and actually _real._ She knew about Lucy and didn't even flinch; she told me things she didn't tell anyone else. It actually worried me, even then, that I loved her so much. I didn't want to be too overbearing or weird, but Santana was like the center of my universe. I may have been the one getting all of the attention, but she was the only person I could see.

When school started, we were pretty delighted to find that we were in a lot of the same classes, which meant we were usually doing homework together after Cheerios practice. In a given day we spent 75% of our waking hours together, but we never seemed to get tired of it or fall out of sync with each other. By the end of freshman year we were two of the most popular girls in school, we were National Champions with the Cheerios, and we'd only grown closer.

That closeness lasted for almost two months after the last day of school before it all went downhill.

* * *

I can feel the steady in-out of Santana's breathing behind me, it's comforting, along with the warmth of her body pressed against mine and her arm wrapped around me. I run my fingertips gently over her hand protectively covering my stomach and marvel at how quickly we've fallen back into being the best friends we used to be. I have missed her so much.

I don't want to move, but I've got to use the ladies' room, and I've got to do it soon. I slowly and carefully slide towards the edge of the bed. Santana only stirs slightly. When my feet hit the floor I turn and look at her as she pulls her arms to her chest and curls her body into an even tighter ball. I tiptoe to Santana's bathroom with a smile on my face.

When I walk back into the bedroom, Santana is still curled up, but her eyes are cracked open and she turns to look at me when I get closer. Wordlessly, she lifts up her left arm and gives me a little pout. I feel my face split into a grin as I climb back on the bed to appease grumpy morning Santana. She folds me into her arms effortlessly, straightening her legs so I can stretch out next to her, my head tucked under her chin. I can feel the soft skin of her neck against the side of my face, her shirt pulled down slightly from how she is laying. Her embrace is the most comforting thing I've ever known, and I find myself immediately snuggling even closer to her.

I hear Santana let out a breathy laugh at me, and I tilt my head up to look at her. The movement brings my lips closer to the exposed skin of her neck and before I even stop to consider, I press my lips softly to her throat. I feel Santana freeze beneath me, but that doesn't stop me from licking my lips and placing another kiss to the dip at the base of her neck. I hear a whoosh of air leaving Santana's body before I feel her shift and suddenly her lips are on mine. Her hand comes up to cup my face as she pulls back for a second, her eyes roving over my face questioningly.

"Quinn-" Santana breathes out, but I don't let her finish.

I connect our mouths again, this time running my tongue along the seam of her lips. She quickly opens her mouth and pulls my bottom lip in between hers. She leans against me and I roll onto my back, letting her lean over me. I'm expecting her weight to settle on top of me, but she continues the kiss with her arms bracing her above me. I break the kiss and look up at her.

"Why are you propped up like that?" I'm breathless from the kiss, but I desperately want to feel her against me.

"The baby…" she whispers.

_This girl…_I feel tears spring to my eyes at her sweetness.

"Hey, are you okay?" Santana's face is knitted in concern.

"Yeah," I say with a smile as I tuck her hair behind her ear. "And so is the baby, so please close the distance a bit."

Santana gives me a radiant smile and lowers herself so that she's half on my body, half off. She places a kiss to my forehead, followed by my temple, then my cheek, and then she's ghosting gentle kisses along my jaw. I can feel the adoration in her touch, and when she finally reaches my mouth I press my lips to hers with enthusiasm, my fingers weaving into her hair and pulling her against me. Our mouths open and move together in a slow, simple dance, as if we've been waiting for this moment all along. In some ways, we probably have. Santana is an extraordinary kisser, and I find myself easily moving from follower to leader and back again without a misstep. I feel surrounded by her and my love for her, and it's _everything._

When she finally pulls away from the kiss and rests her forehead on mine, we're both breathless and smiling.

"I _really _missed you," she says shakily, and I laugh lightly. "Let's go eat some breakfast."

I pull back and give her a crazy look.

"You want to eat breakfast _now_? How can you even think about eating right now?" I'm incredulous, and aggravated. Here I feel like I'm experiencing this life changing event, and she wants her Lucky Charms.

Santana opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off.

"I'm not Brittany, you can't just kiss me then walk away like it didn't happen," I spit out. It's ironic, because I did exactly that to her this summer, and even as I'm saying it I realize that it's too harsh.

Before I can blink, Santana is scrambling off of me and then completely off the bed. She stands with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, clearly furious.

"Is that seriously what you think of me? First of all, don't you ever, and I mean _ever_, talk about Brittany like that. She's not dumb, and you have no idea what we have between us-"

"I didn't mean it like that," I try to interrupt, feeling guilty already.

"And _secondly_, I thought it might be a good idea for us to slow our roll a little bit and take a breather. Things are moving really fucking fast here and as amazing as it feels, which is really fucking amazing, by the way, I don't want to lose you again. So if I have to sacrifice what my body wants for five fucking minutes so we can talk over breakfast, then for once, I'm actually willing to do that."

There's an awkward silence as I stare down at my hands and Santana glares at me. I can actually feel her eyes on me, so I finally look up and make eye contact with her. She's got her bitch glare in full effect, but I can see plainly that more than anger, she feels hurt.

"I'm sorry, Santana. That was an awful thing for me to say. You're right, I don't know what is between you and Brittany, and I shouldn't have assumed anything. It's just that…there is so much _here_ and so much going on that I'm scared. I'm really scared because I've never let myself be this open. You know me; I don't make a move unless I know how it'll turn out. And the one time I stepped away from that life plan, well…now I'm pregnant. So I'm just ridiculously defensive. And I'm sorry, again."

I slide over so I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at this stunningly attractive girl with as much earnestness as I can muster.

Santana steps over so that she's standing between my knees and brings her hands up to cup my face tenderly.

"Don't be an idiot, Fabray," I smile at our ongoing inside joke. "I'm scared too. And if you ever repeat that, I will deny it," she says, giving me a little smirk before leaning down to brush my lips with hers. Her voice drops an octave when she whispers, "For the record, breakfast isn't _really _what I want to be eating."

I feel my skin flush in combination with an immediate throbbing between my legs. I want her, but I know it's time to step back. I resort to using her line in response.

"_Wanky."_


	4. Everybody Talks Too Much

**A/N: I re-uploaded ch 3 with both POVs because I think it flows better. I'm not sure how many chapters I'll post tonight because I don't want to leave a big gap between updates, but we'll see.**

* * *

**SANTANA**

I'm making us breakfast, and realizing what a bottomless pit Quinn has become with an evidently voracious fetus growing inside of her. I made some eggs and toast first, which were inhaled by my previously petite blonde best friend. She looked sheepish while she watched me finish my meal at a reasonable pace, before asking if I could make some bacon and maybe some waffles. Of course I obliged, making her a full plate for her second course.

"So?"

"This is soooo good. So good. This is like heaven in my mouth," Quinn responds, trying to cover her mouthful of food with her hand.

I laugh and ask if she wants anything else. I giggle even more as she tries to finish chewing so she can answer with her usual impeccable manners.

"No, thank you. This is amazing. _You _are amazing," she adds with a shy smile before diving back in for another bite.

I give her a wide smile and start cleaning up our breakfast mess. I've cleaned a good portion of the dishes when Quinn comes over, puts her plate in the sink, and starts drying the clean dishes on the rack. She bumps me with her hip and gives me a little smile before she starts humming softly while we work.

I steal quick glances over at her, enjoying the sight of her calm face, unmarred by her usual tension. The sunlight is coming in at the perfect angle to illuminate her hazel eyes, making them look greener than ever. She peeks up at me and I get a clear view of her bright irises. Quinn's eyes are endlessly unique. I could study them for hours and still see something new.

Suddenly, I noticed that she is blushing, the red rising from her neck to her face. Even her ears are tinged pink. I realize that she has caught me staring, probably because I've stopped actually cleaning and am just holding a dish in my hand like an idiot. Now it's my turn to blush, and I look away quickly.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"Don't be an idiot," she says with a sly grin, "It's cute."

I let out a little huff.

"I'm not cute. I'm sexy, or I'm hot, or I'm downright vicious. No one ever calls me 'cute,'" I reply wryly.

"Well I think you're cute. And sexy. And hot," Quinn answers.

"And vicious. Come on, Q. Don't go giving me free passes just because you want some sexy lady kisses later. You've seen me be mean, to you and to other people."

"Okay, that's true," she says slowly as we finish cleaning up and she sits back down at the island, watching me carefully, "but in fairness, I've also seen you be incredibly kind and warm. I've seen you be protective and gentle. And despite your usual cockiness, which I happen to find rather sexy, you've been all of those things and you were humble about it."

I stand with my back to the counter and absorb what she's given me, trying not respond with a funny retort to lessen my discomfort.

"So what you're telling me is that you think I'm sexy." Funny retort it is, I'm not the best at taking compliments that don't involve my physical appearance.

"San, don't do that. Your self-deprecation is super endearing, but I want to make sure that you know I still see all of you. Not just sexy you, which of course I do see…literally every time I look at you…even when I'd rather not be thinking about how sexy you are."

I roll my eyes and grin at her words. Only Quinn would pick up immediately on not only my awkwardness with compliments, but also on the most effective way to push them through to me.

"Well thank you, Lady Fabray. I'm not sure if you know this, but I think pretty highly of you too," I say as I walk over and lean across the counter to give her a quick peck that she happily returns.

"So how much talking do we need to do before I can get some more of these delectable smooches?" Her smirk is sexy as hell as she basically asks me to take her back upstairs and get my mack on. She knows exactly what she is doing, and how difficult it is for me to turn down an invitation like that.

My eyes flicker down to her lips before returning to her eyes, and I return her smirk while I reign in my raging hormones, screaming at me to just take her on the spot.

"You're good, Fabray, but talking is definitely up next. Well, after I take an ice cold shower, thank you very much."

I start walking upstairs, smiling when I hear Quinn following.

"Will this be a joint venture?"

"Damn it, Quinn!"

* * *

**QUINN**

When Santana comes out of the shower, I feel my stomach flip wildly. Her towel barely reaches mid-thigh, and her wet hair hangs down to the top of her perfect round breasts. I've long since accepted that I feel a strong physical attraction to Santana, but looking at her now, I want to yank that towel off of her and map her entire body with my tongue. I know I'm practically drooling, but I can't pull my eyes away from her.

Santana catches it too, because I see her smirk knowingly in my direction before bending ever so slightly to pull clean underwear and sweats out of a drawer. She leans just far enough that my breath catches in my throat before she stands back up and glances at me over her shoulder.

"My, my, Lucy Q, I had no idea you were such a nympho!" She throws me a wink that sends heat through my body.

"Neither did I," I retort shamelessly.

Something about my tone pulls her up as she lays her new clothes on the bed.

"Quinn, you're killing meeeee." Santana is full on whining at me. "Do you have any idea how difficult it has been for me to control myself around you? It was hard _before _you started laying on the innuendos and incredibly sexy charm. And now I'm trying really hard to do right by you and you're making it nearly impossible!"

I'm immediately curious when she emphasizes how hard it was to control herself before the innuendos. Since the night we kissed four months ago, our friendship has been in shambles, mostly because I refused to talk to her. So even though I've had this inkling that the attraction was mutual between us for a while before this morning, I still have no idea how Santana truly feels about me. It's my greatest incentive to control my urge to kiss her and actually talk.

On the other hand, I can tell she's exasperated with me, but I have no sympathy. Santana is a genius at sneaky flirting and probably the queen of innuendo, except when she's not feeling clever and drops the most thinly veiled sexual reference ever, "wanky." Her borderline lewd comments only began after I ruined our friendship, in what seemed to be an attempt to make me as uncomfortable as possible. Either that or she made her jokes thinking that I would either a) not pick up on them because I was so innocent or b) brush them off because I was so straight they would be meaningless.

"Fine. I'll go take a quick shower so you can pull yourself together and then we can talk, but I might have conditions for this conversation," I say as I head into her bathroom, "be out in 15."

With that I close her door and rush myself into the shower. I can't believe how much I don't like being away from her presence.

"Hey Q?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm just going to brush my teeth while you're showering, didn't want you to freak out if you heard me or something."

"Okay."

I can hear Santana moving around outside of the shower, and figure it's a good opportunity to get something off my chest while there is a barrier between us.

"So while you're doing that I'm going to start talking, okay?"

I hear an affirmative sounding grunt.

"Okay. Umm. The night of your birthday. That kiss was the best thing I've ever experienced. It was like the moment I needed to finally just accept that what I felt about you was stronger than friendship, was stronger than anything really. I just wanted you to know that, because we've never talked about it."

I'm uncomfortable in the silence that follows. I don't know if Santana is still brushing her teeth or what. Just as I reach for the shower curtain, it's snatched back and Santana is standing there staring at me in shock. I stand stock still for a half second and then turn away from her and back towards the water, suddenly self-conscious with a girl who's seen me naked countless times. I look back at her over my shoulder when she speaks.

"I thought…I thought that the kiss was why you stopped talking to me for weeks. Why we've barely been friends for months. I thought you blamed me or something. That you knew how into you I was and were disgusted by it…" Santana is shaking her head, her eyes unfocused as she relives that night.

I sigh heavily. Maybe truth time in the shower was a bad idea. I rinse off quickly and grab a towel. Santana is still holding the shower curtain and staring at the wall blankly. I step out of the tub and grab her other hand, leading her to the bedroom where I see she's laid out some comfy clothes for my expanded body. I throw on the clothes and eye her carefully. She's been staring at her hands as I dressed, but now is looking at me expectantly. My courage is gone along with the shower curtain barrier between us. I walk back into the bathroom and find, to my delight and surprise, that my toothbrush is still there. I brush my teeth vigorously, trying to ignore the anxious gaze I can feel boring into me.

When I sit down on the bed across from her, Santana takes my hands in hers and rubs her thumbs over my knuckles softly. She tilts her head to the side as she looks up at my face.

"I just want to understand. Losing you…it was the most painful thing I've endured," she says softly.

I nod and swallow thickly. I know I owe her this.

"Do you remember what happened right before the kiss?"

"You walked up to me and said, 'You're such an asshole,' out of nowhere." Santana's voice is thick at the memory.

"Do you remember what you were doing like 5 minutes before that?"

I see her beautiful face scrunch up in confusion as she thinks about it. I can tell she's afraid to say she doesn't know, or say the wrong thing, because it's clearly significant to me.

"Not particularly, no. I'm sorry Quinn."

We study each other for a second before I look away.

"I saw you kissing Brittany," my voice is steady, but I feel timid.

I look up to see Santana's eyes widen.

"Oh."

"I was so jealous, it burned right through me. So I walked away, but I couldn't stop seeing it over and over. I thought if there would ever be a girl you'd kiss, it would be me. I _wanted _it to be me. There was no rational side to remind me that I'd been hiding all of my feelings from you, that you couldn't possibly know. So all you got was the crazy side, and I marched up to you and called you an asshole and stormed off.

And you followed me…you were so upset and everything felt so bad. But when you finally grabbed my arm, I felt electricity go through my entire body and I just had to kiss you. Santana, it was _everything_. Which, you know, that really just devastated me further; because I didn't know what that meant for me or us, or the future, but I was _terrified_…and I also thought you might be with Brittany or whatever."

Santana looks like she's just been told she was adopted from space aliens. When the tears brimming in her eyes spill over, I quickly move my hands up to catch them and wipe them away with my thumbs.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to her fervently, "Please don't cry, Tana."

She lets out a shaky laugh and sniffles a little.

"Don't be an idiot," she says with a teary grin, pulling me into a fierce hug.

I can feel her body shaking slightly, and find myself crying too. We hold each other for a long moment before she sits back and releases me.

"You know I'm not with Brittany, right?" she asks me finally.

"I kind of guessed when you kissed me back last night. And again this morning," I reply teasingly.

She flashes me a dazzling smile and tilts her head at me.

"Yeah well I'm pretty impressed with you, actually. I never thought you'd be so forward."

"Well, I knew what I wanted."

She is studying me intensely, and I look steadily back at her.

"And what is that, Q?"

I've been waiting for this moment for so long, I've rehearsed this conversation so many times. And yet I'm completely frozen for a second.

"Santana…"

I lean forward and gently touch my lips to hers, steeling myself for what I'm about to say before I settle back to release the most dangerous words I've ever said.

"I want you. I'm completely in love with you, and I can't fight it anymore. And I know, God, I know, that this isn't ideal, or even fair to tell you right now. But I need for you to know, even if you don't feel the same way about me."

Her soft, disbelieving laugh steals my breath away. I can feel my heart pounding.

"Lucy Quinn Fabray, I've been in love with you pretty much from the moment I first saw you."

I feel my jaw drop.


	5. This Is How I Let You Down

**SANTANA**

July, 2009

It's my 15th birthday, and it has been an awesome day. Since I'm a summer baby, I always have the best birthday parties because everyone is off from school. 15 is kind of a big deal in my family, like most Hispanic families, it's sort of like our Sweet 16. I'm having a family event over the weekend, but tonight is just about hanging out with my friends. People are jumping in and out of the pool, a bunch of guys have started a fire in the fire pit, and a crowd has gathered in the living room cheering and hollering at the awkward dance battle going on while playing Dance Dance Revolution. I've had a smile on my face for hours; this has been the best birthday ever.

I've got my eye on Puckerman and some of the other guys at the fire pit. My mother and father basically threatened my life when they agreed to give me leeway during this party and stay out of my hair. Their single condition was no alcohol, and if anyone is going to break that edict, it would be Puck. My parents have held up their end by generally staying out of sight and only passing through occasionally to check in, and I want to earn their trust by following through on mine.

It's only because I'm watching Puck so carefully that I see him slide in next to Quinn at the fire pit and start whispering in her ear. My stomach turns uncomfortably at the sight, and I want nothing more than to march over and yank him by his stupid mohawk away from my beautiful blonde best friend. I set off in their direction, but am stopped by a hand on my arm.

I turn to find the new girl, Brittany, smiling at me. We met at Cheerios camp, and I know she's going to make varsity. Girl can _dance_. We hit it off right away, and she's kind of become a little addition to the Santana and Quinn power duo.

"Hey Britt, are you having fun?"

"Oh my God, yes, this party is awesome. I've done like, 40 flips off the diving board."

_Oh wow_. I realize that Brittany is only wearing a tiny bikini, and that her top is slightly askew, evidently from her many flips into the pool. Her long blonde hair is really all that is covering her. I quickly reach up and fix her top, giving her a nervous smile.

"Thanks," she says, clearly unaffected by the fact that one of her boobs was basically just hanging out.

"No problem," I say with a laugh and a slight shake of my head.

I admire how completely oblivious she is to social pressures. Brittany doesn't seem to care what anyone thinks of her, nor does she seem too keen on judging others.

"Have you been in the pool the entire time?" I've caught sight of her wrinkled fingertips.

"I forgot a towel, or a change of clothes, so I've just stayed in the pool," she says with a casual shrug.

"Britt! Why didn't you say something? You can borrow some."

As I'm talking, I see Puck lean in and kiss Quinn. She looks stiff, but doesn't pull away. My stomach drops and I feel my eyes water slightly.

"Really? Thanks!" Britt looks relieved.

I grab her hand and walk quickly into the house and up to my room. I grab her a towel and wrap it around her, rubbing my hands up and down her arms. The house is air conditioned, and the cold catches up to Brittany quickly. I grab her some shorts and a t-shirt, along with underwear and a sports bra. She takes the clothes gratefully, and changes in my bathroom. When she comes out, I take the towel from her hands and sit her down at my desk so I can gather her hair in the towel and squeeze the water out. When I'm done I hang the towel up and walk back to Brittany, who's standing now, and she wraps me in a tight hug.

"Thank you," she murmurs, her soft breath tickling my ear.

I feel a strange combination of comfort and heat in her arms. When she pulls back to study my face, my breath catches in my throat. I am frozen when she moves her mouth to mine, but quickly recover, returning her kiss with fervor. I've thought about kissing girls, well really just Quinn, more than I'd like to admit, and this kiss is better than I've ever imagined. Brittany's lips are soft and pliant, she's moving slowly, as if she knows I'm new to this. When she pulls away, she looks into my eyes and smiles brightly, before placing a single peck on my lips and turning for the door.

I register, with a start, that the door is slightly open, but don't have much time to think about it as Brittany drags me by my hand back down to the party. My heart is still thudding from the illicit kiss we just shared and I can't stop thinking about Quinn. I remember her kissing Puckerman and suddenly feel worry seep through my body. How could I let her out of my sight with that horny douchebag?

I realize that everyone downstairs has started cheering at my appearance and I give them a full, fake smile, feeling slightly panicked about finding my best friend.

"Quinn!" I shout happily when I spot her without the idiot attachment she'd had earlier.

She turns and glares at me, her eyes so hard I stop in my tracks. She closes the gap between us, her movements stiff and jerky.

"You are such an asshole," she practically hisses at me between her teeth.

The air leaves my lungs in shock, and I feel like I've been punched in the stomach. Her breath smells faintly like alcohol, but I'm too shocked to really register what that means.

"Wha-why, what happened?"

She doesn't answer me and instead pushes passed me and out the front door. I'm frozen in place for a beat before I turn and follow after her, feeling truly panicked.

"Quinn, STOP! Talk to me!"

I see her shaking her head vehemently as she strides purposefully away from me.

"Please Quinn," I beg shamelessly as I finally reach out and grab her arm.

She wheels on me and stares at me hard for a moment, before her face softens and her eyes look conflicted for half a second.

Before I can register the movement, she has stepped in closer to me and is grabbing my face with both hands. In the next instant I feel Quinn's hot breath against my mouth and then her lips, kissing me hard, almost desperately. I don't hesitate to match her and then some. I wrap my arms around her small waist and pull her against me. My senses are overwhelmed with Quinn and the feeling of just..._YES_. She is everything to me in this moment.

When we pull apart, she puts some distance between us. I can see tears in her eyes and reach back out to hug her, but she pushes my hands away.

"Don't," she says, and turns to walk away.

"I don't understand! Why won't you talk to me?" I'm still following after her, my tears spilling over.

"Leave me alone, Santana."

With that she strides off, leaving me crying on the sidewalk.

* * *

**QUINN**

July, 2009

I'm wandering around Santana's backyard, mingling with people. I feel like I'm a satellite, orbiting around the birthday girl, always within sight of one another. She is smiling and talking to someone, and my heart swells because I know this birthday has been great for her.

I sit down near the fire and talk to some junior Cheerios I know, when Noah Puckerman slips in next to me and compliments my body in the rudest possible manner. I roll my eyes at him, and to my surprise he apologizes. I can feel eyes on us as we're talking that I'm sure are Santana's. I smirk a little knowing Puck will probably be getting an earful from my best friend shortly. She doesn't like him a whole lot, something she impressed on me emphatically when I'd said I thought he was kind of cute.

When she doesn't interrupt, I glance up to where I'd last seen her. She's still there, talking to Brittany. I watch as she reaches out and touches Britt's chest, apparently fixing her bathing suit. I feel a heavy weight in my stomach and refocus my attention on Puck.

He tells me that he thinks I'm the most beautiful girl in our class. Internally, I disagree with him on account of Santana being in our grade, but I thank him anyway. When he leans in to give me a kiss, I stiffen but don't pull back. I feel awkward, but don't want to be rude. The kiss is alright, a little sloppy and wet, but thankfully he doesn't try to shove his tongue down my throat.

I see Santana rushing into the house, pulling Brittany behind her. I'm instantly concerned, but can't find a polite way to excuse myself from talking to Puck after we just kissed. I listen to him babble on for a few minutes before finally making an exit and heading inside.

I weave into each of the rooms, looking for my best friend. When I don't spot her downstairs, I assume she's gone to her room and climb the stairs hopefully. Once I reach her door, I feel on odd sort of apprehension before I quietly turn the knob and push the door open slightly.

I immediately feel as if I've been dropped off of a cliff. Brittany is pressed against Santana with her head tilted down. I can't clearly see their mouths, but it's obvious that they are kissing. As soon as I can get my feet to move, I hurry down the stairs and out to the backyard.

Puck looks delighted to see me, and immediately swoops in, evidently missing the tears I'm blinking back furiously. He offers me some of his drink, and even though I know it's spiked with booze I drink it down in one big gulp and walk away after handing him his empty cup.

I walk to the side of the house and find myself alone. I feel like I'm hyperventilating, but I'm trying desperately to get my breathing under control. I'm can't wrap my mind around why I'm reacting so violently to Brittany and Santana kissing when I hear cheering coming from inside. I take two deep breaths before I round the corner and walk in the back door.

I see Santana standing in the middle of the crowd looking weirdly guilty and pleased at the same time. It's impossible not to notice how extraordinarily attractive she is when she's standing in a crowd of her peers. She's wearing this odd grin that I can't place and is scanning the room for someone. Most significantly, her pinkie is entwined with Brittany's, who is possibly the only human on earth who can radiate energy and excitement after spending hours in a pool doing flips and playing chicken. It only takes me a glance to notice that Britt is decked out in Santana's clothes, and once again I feel a heavy weight descend in my stomach. I look away from them, angling my entire body as if I can stop the hurt by physically closing myself off from her. My confusion and sadness feel like actual weights on my being. I don't know how to handle what I'm feeling, and it makes me so furious I'm nearly shaking. Anger makes more sense to me than the inexplicable spectrum of emotions I just experienced. I'm comforted by its cold familiarity.

Suddenly, I hear Santana shout my name and turn to see her eyes on my own. She literally lights up as if I've come back from the dead. For some reason her reaction flips a switch deep inside me that sets a fire in my heart. She was just kissing Brittany like it's no big deal, and then she looks at me like that. I'm suddenly terrified that she wants to tell me all about it. The wound goes deeper, and I'm certain that this feeling within me is nothing short of betrayal.

Her face flickers from joy to confusion, and then to fear. I feel rooted to the spot I'm in but force myself toward her, my limbs feeling oddly heavy and wrong.

"You are such an asshole," I say through my teeth, before I continue on for the door.

She's stammering something but I don't stop my movement. I can't be near her, I can't look at her. My brain is in overdrive as I try to sort out what the hell is happening inside of me.

Am I shocked that I saw Santana kissing a girl?_ Yes. Well, sort of. No? Yes and no. _Does it bother me?_ Not that she did it, no. _Then why I am I so angry and hurt?_ Because it wasn't me. Wait no, that can't be it. But that's it. No! Fuck!_

I can hear Santana trying desperately to get me to stop, but I don't stop until I feel her hand on my arm and an incredible electricity radiate through my body at her touch. My stomach turns as I do; it hurts so badly to see her face contorted in pain.

Before I can really process my thoughts, my body is telling me to kiss her. Kiss her and I'll find the answers to my questions. I'm terrified to know, but I have to.

And just like that, I'm holding her face in my hands and I'm kissing her fervently. My heart leaps when she wraps her arms around me and moves her mouth against mine. Her lips are somehow both demanding and needy, and I'm filled with a heady feeling of passion and desire. I feel her _everywhere_, this is _everything_. My heart breaks even as it fills with love, and at once I am certain that I am absolutely in love with Santana Lopez.

I want her so badly and yet I'm filled with so many doubts and fears that my brain resorts to the one emotion I can control right now: anger. I am angry at her for making me love her, I'm angry at the world for making it impossible for us to be together, but mostly I'm angry at myself for being too much of a coward to choose her anyway. I pull away from her and throw up every emotional wall I can build in an instant. Still, it takes everything in me to refuse when she reaches for me.

"Don't," I say it coldly and I feel like my entire world is icy.

"I don't understand! Why won't you talk to me?"

My whole body hurts at the desperate sadness in her voice.

"Leave me alone, Santana."

I walk away feeling an avalanche of sorrow within me. I know the way to my house, but I'm certain that I'm leaving my home behind. _Everything hurts._


	6. We're Not Good at 'Easy'

**SANTANA**

Quinn's look of utter shock at finding out how long I've been in love with her actually surprises _me_. I have been convinced that I must not have hidden it very well, and that her kiss on my birthday was some kind of test to see what I'd do. I know it's a somewhat ridiculous leap to have made, but she wouldn't tell me what happened and I filled in the blanks with my worst case scenario. God, I wish I had known on that night what she just told me. So many of the things I've said and done in the past few months have been a result of my very wrong assumptions.

She still hasn't said anything, but her slack jaw is slowly transforming into a grin. She shakes her head slowly.

"You're a good actress," she finally says.

I actually bark out a laugh at that, because it's really ridiculous.

"No Quinn, you just aren't very perceptive," I retort.

"How do you figure?" Quinn demands, her brow slightly furrowed.

"Let's just say Brittany could tell I was in love you from the second time she hung out with us alone."

"What?! How?" Her eyes are halfway into her hairline and her eyes are wide with disbelief.

"That's actually remarkably similar to my reaction," I say with a laugh. "Well, according to Brittany, the second time we hung out together I was relaxed enough to be my normal self with you…which, evidently, basically meant that I was always finding reasons to touch you in little ways, and my eyes were always on you, especially when you weren't looking. She said she could actually _feel_ me wanting you."

"How could I not notice that? And how come Brittany didn't see that I loved you, too?"

"She did see that you loved me. In fact that's probably the only thing we really ever argue about," I take in Quinn's questioning look and continue explaining, "Britt says the love was always there, but that once we kissed it changed into a different kind of love. The "in love" kind of love."

"I can't believe Brittany could see all of that," she looks surprised and impressed. "But what's the argument? You must have known that I loved you, San. Please tell me you knew that."

"I knew you loved me as a friend, but I didn't agree with Brittany that you could feel for me like I felt for you. I was pretty convinced that you figured out my feelings and kissed me to test it out. It was an admittedly weak theory. I just couldn't let myself believe that you'd ever return my feelings, I guess."

"I wish I was as perceptive as Britt apparently is," Quinn says with a sigh.

"She's really smart about people. It's like she can feel what other people are feeling. I don't know if I would have survived the last few months without her."

I see Quinn's face contort into a pained sadness when I mention the difficulty I've had with our separation. We study each other for a moment.

"Santana, I need to apologize for shutting you out and pretty much ruining our friendship for the past 4 months, and I need for you to not brush my apology off with a joke. I thought, wrongly, that I was protecting myself, and you, from something that I shouldn't be feeling. I wish that I had just talked to you then, and it _kills_ me that I put you through all of that pain. I am truly sorry for everything."

I want so badly to make the joke here and let this serious moment go, but I know she means this.

"I'm sorry too, Quinn. I didn't know how to handle things, and I swung the pendulum so far in the opposite direction of where we had been to protect myself…but I never stopped loving you. I tried to take care of you without you knowing, but it doesn't make up for all of the terrible things I did to you."

I'm looking as deeply into her eyes as possible, and I know she can feel the sincerity in my voice. She gives me a little smile.

"It's crazy, I feel like nothing has changed even though so much has. I look at you…you're still my world San. You're my best friend, I need you," she grabs my hand and squeezes it.

"I'm not going anywhere, Quinn."

"Can I kiss you now?" She looks adorably eager.

"Yes-" Quinn jumps forward and I hold up my hand to stop her so I can finish my thought. "But this conversation is not necessarily over, ok?"

"Okay," she breathes out and then pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.

I'm done for at that, and move my hand from the "stop" position to her neck, my thumb skimming beneath her earlobe. She leans in and kisses me softly once, before pulling back ever so slightly, her lips still grazing mine.

"Finally," she whispers against my mouth, and before I can answer our lips are connected fiercely.

_Finally is right._

Making out with Quinn is better than anything I could ever imagine. Her kisses mirror her personality in adorable and surprising ways. With every kiss I notice something new that I file away somewhere in my brain as if I'll be tested later. Like her, Q's kisses are neat and controlled, as if she's always looking one step ahead, but my favorite moments are when she loses her cool and I get some of that famous Fabray bite…literally. In typical Quinn fashion, she wants to be perfect but doesn't realize that she gets closest when she stops trying. The mere thought of experiencing Quinn completely out of control has my skin tingling and heat flooding between my legs.

For all of my wanting her, I'm pleasantly surprised at my own restraint. I thank my lucky stars that she hasn't tried to escalate our kisses to the next level, because I'm not sure my tenuous self-control would hold up. I'm cuddling the most beautiful girl in the world and she's kissing _me._ Every single part of me wants her more than I've ever wanted anything.

We've migrated from our relatively safe seated positions to lying on my bed. So far we've stayed roughly parallel on our sides, but I can feel her fist tightening its grip on my sweatshirt and I know she wants to pull me down on top of her. I don't want to stop, but I know that having Quinn under me will completely ruin any chance we have of taking this slow. When I've reached the limits of my control I slowly lean back and watch her eyes slowly open, stealing the breath from my lungs as they do.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of kissing you," she says lightly.

I smile at her, and then lean in suddenly, placing fast pecks all over her face, making exaggerated kissing noises with each one. She squeals adorably, her peals of laughter spurring me on even more. When she brings her hands up to gently push my face away, I give her a ridiculous pouty face.

"I thought you'd never get tired of my kisses!" I tease her.

She looks me straight in the eye and hooks the neck of my sweatshirt with one finger, pulling us closer and connecting our lips yet again. It's a quick kiss, but she manages to peek her tongue out for a fraction of a second, letting the tip of it just barely graze the underneath of my top lip. I feel the impact of that simple action directly between my legs, causing my eyes to snap shut and a soft gasp to escape my lips.

Quinn's smirk is all I can see when my eyes open again, and it's sexy as hell. All of my desire attacks my senses at once, and a silent battle rages inside my body. My jaw is locked, and my nostrils flare as I suck in a short, shallow breath. The hand that was resting on her hip is now gripping tightly, and the rest of my muscles feel frozen. It's over in hardly a second, my rational mind overcoming pure instinct in an admittedly rare victory. I can see in Quinn's eyes that she's all too aware of what just happened within me, and she looks so smug that I give her a scowl and move deliberately to put space between us. It's her turn to sulk, and I grin at her petulance. Her eyes widen as she realizes that I've played her.

"You're mean!" she exclaims, but I can hear the smile in her voice.

"You're so much meaner!" I tell her in pretend exasperation.

She reaches out and gives my shoulder a playful little push, and I stick my tongue out at her. We both laugh, and I actually fully sit up, pulling my legs to the side.

"What time is it?" she asks me.

"Ummm…crap. It's 1 o'clock," I say with a frown.

"You're gonna go to Cheerios, aren't you?" she tries to keep the disappointment out of her voice when she asks.

"I have to, Q. You know Sue doesn't care if we're sick, or if we're technically not supposed to go to practice if we missed class. She'll toss me off the team."

"I know, it just sucks. I miss it. Plus, I really want to keep you to myself," she says simply.

I smile, so glad to be privy to her thoughts and feelings once again.

"Trust me, I want to stay here with you. But I need to be a Cheerio to be able to protect you, to protect us both. It's the only way I can influence the morons who are just looking for a chance to tear you and me down."

She scoffs a little.

"Whole lot of good it did me, I got slushied while I was _wearing_ my uniform," the bitterness in her voice is clear, but it turns timid when she asks, "Do you think people are really still coming after me?"

I mull this over, because I'm really not sure.

"I don't know. People are always going to be jealous of you, pregnant or not you're still the prettiest girl any of those losers will ever meet. And whatever this is," I gesture between us, "would probably be perfect ammunition for them. I mean, assuming it continues beyond today." I flash her an uncertain smile before adding, "And you got slushied more because Finn is such a bumbling doofus than because of you. For the apparently anointed "leader" he supposedly is, he has an awfully difficult time rallying his teammates to his defense, or to do anything he wants, really." I throw up sarcastic air quotes when I say "leader."

I don't understand the hero worship that gets heaped on Finn. He's usually a nice enough guy, I guess, but he's still a teenaged mutant awkward gigantor. Plus, he has the misfortune of being a complete idiot on pretty much every imaginable level. Basic cognitive understanding is legitimately beyond his meager academic capabilities, and I can accept that, but what really kills me is his inexplicable failure to be faithful to his extraordinarily hot girlfriend. Granted, Quinn cheated on him with Puck, and therefore can't really be counted as a victim, but Finn put his sloppy lips all up on _Berry's_ loud, loud mouth. Berry! Of all the people on earth, Hudson goes and kisses Rachel fucking Berry. Worse, he did it on the stage of the auditorium, which is basically the definition of putting his douchery on display. Even though I was still trying to hate Quinn, seeing that had infuriated me. That idiot had everything I've ever wanted and he was so careless with it.

_Had? Has? Oh shit…Quinn is still dating the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man-child._

"Do you want this to carry on after today?" Quinn's timid question brings me back from my thoughts.

_Fuck._ I'm legitimately taken aback by the question, for some reason.

"I-I don't know," I stammer. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around Finn and Quinn still being a thing and how the hell I've managed to completely forget that fact.

"Oh." Quinn looks downright miserable.

"That came out wrong…I mean…of course I do, it's just that…Quinn, look at me," watery hazel eyes meet mine, "it's just that we need to figure out what exactly that means. You have a boyfriend, Q. And he thinks you're carrying his child. You need to decide what you want to do with all of that. And, on top of that, this is fucking _Ohio_. We need to really think about what we want and what we're willing to sacrifice. We can't just dive into this."

Quinn is nodding a little too emphatically and I instinctively recognize that she is trying to shut down her emotions. I just dropped a whole lot of reality on our situation, and I wonder how Quinn looks so shocked to hear them. She must've worried about these things before now. I reach out and slide my hand along her jaw, my thumb brushing her cheek.

"Hey, stop. Quinn," I dip my head down to make eye contact with her, but she looks pointedly away. "Please don't shut me out. _Please Quinn, just talk to me._"

She closes her eyes at my pleading tone, and I know she's remembering my birthday because I recognize the agonized begging nature of my voice from that night, too. A hot knife of pain stabs through my heart and I'm terrified and furious all at once.

"No, you don't get to fucking do this to me again," I say shakily, "You _can't. _I deserve better than this, Quinn, you _OWE ME_ more than this!"

Silent tears are falling from the beautiful eyes that still refuse to meet mine, and I'm at a complete loss. I want to wrap her in my arms until she finds whatever words she needs to speak to me again, I want to kiss away all of her sadness, and I want to literally slap the shit out of her, all at the same time. I am trembling with the effort of controlling my body.

I stand up and walk to my closet, grabbing a clean Cheerios uniform. I'm going to be late for practice if I don't get my shit together, and I'm certain that if I stay and watch her tears fall any longer I will absolutely flip the fuck out. I hate myself for being encouraged that she hasn't actually left, despite the mute void she's become.

When I'm dressed I walk back to the bed and sit across from her, taking in her every feature. Her eyes are cast downward, her brow furrowed. I'm legitimately petrified that this will be the last time I'll be able to look at her face with love in my heart.

"I know you're scared, I am too," I tell her softly, "but I want to face that fear with you by my side, whether you're there as my best friend or something more."

I pause and take a deep breath. Quinn finally picks her head up and regards me tentatively.

"_I __**love**__ you._ I love you so much it hurts. But if you do this, Quinn, if you shut me out again, I will _never_ forgive you. So I am begging you, for the last time, to fight for us and just talk to me.

I'm going to practice now; I'll be back in two hours or so. You need to decide by then what you're going to do. If you're going to quit on me again, please leave before I get home. I want you here more than anything in this world, but I won't let you crush me again. I can't do it again."

I lean forward and press my lips to her forehead, then dip my head down to place a swift kiss on her lips before I jump up and grab my Cheerios bag as I open the door. I look back at her for just a second.

"Love you, Lucy Q."

I step into the hall and close the door behind me, instantly feeling hot tears running down my face as I fight the sobs that rack my body. I take a second to protectively fold my arms across my chest as if I can actually hold myself together. I realize that my labored breathing has turned into outright whimpers, and it spurs me down the stairs and to my car. I know I should have called Brittany to pick me up, since I'm not allowed to get my permit for another two months, but I need to get out of here and I don't have time to wait. Hopefully I beat my parents home, but right now I don't even care.

I back out of my driveway and glance up at my bedroom window. Quinn is staring down at me sadly. It looks like she's talking to herself or something. I let myself stare back for a second before I drive off.

* * *

**QUINN**

I'm standing at the window, watching Santana leave. I heard her soft sobs after she closed the door to her room, it was devastating. I felt her pain as if it was my own, and looking at her now brings a fresh wave of sadness over me. She pauses after she's backed out and I can tell she sees me. Without thinking, my hands fly up to grip the window frame and I hear myself shouting desperately.

"I love you! I love you, Santana!"

She pulls away slowly, and my head drops at the same time. I'm so disgusted with myself, but there's nothing I can do about it now except wait. Wait, and keep myself from getting crazy again. I focus for a second on the fact that I already miss Santana with everything in me. Losing her again would destroy me. _You wouldn't be losing her; you'd be throwing her away, you IDIOT._

I think about what she said to me, about why I got so worked up. I have a chance, this time, to work through this before I see her. I am desperate to figure my craziness out so I don't lose the only person in my life that makes me happy.

_What if practice ends early or is cancelled and she comes back before I'm ready?_

Panic rises in my chest.

_**Stop**_. _Just stop worrying about things you can't control. She's right, you owe her this. You have to stay calm or else you are going to lose everything. __**Focus**__._

The last thing Santana said before she left was that she loved me. I know she's afraid I'm going to hurt her again, but she still stopped to tell me she loves me. Actually, now that I think about it, she said even more than that.

"_Love you, Lucy Q."_

I feel a slow smile spread across my face until I'm wearing an ear to ear grin. I know Santana better than I know myself, and I know she didn't choose those words on accident. I've been given many a nickname by my clever best friend, but Lucy Q has always been my favorite. Santana is still the lone person that knows about Lucy, so it's a name she only uses when it's just us. It's also the nickname she uses when I'm feeling the most down about myself, as a reminder that she knows all of me and loves me anyway.

_That beautiful, beautiful girl._

In an instant, I know exactly what I have to do. I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner, it should've been so obvious. I sit at Santana's desk and look for paper and a pen. I smile when I notice she still has my favorite kind of pen in her desk, and again when I recognize the stationary I bought us both last year. I only sit still for a moment, considering, before the words begin to flow, and I know I've found my voice.


	7. I'm Basically Flipping Out

**SANTANA**

I am mid-air, rotating through a backflip. I've spotted the floor, and I know that the speed of my rotation and the velocity of my body will bring me around for a smooth landing. We've been doing ground stunts for an hour now, and I'm in the miraculous bubble known as "the zone." It's almost as if I've reached a weird Asian zen state at the intersection of distracted by Quinn and aggressively angry at Quinn. My intensity is evident in the height of my jumps and the tight rotation of my spins, I'm not overthinking my movements because I can't think about anything but the girl I left in my bedroom.

"Lopez!" I'm too distracted to even grimace at the grating noise of Coach Sylvester's voice.

I jog over to Coach and await whatever assault she's about to lay on me.

"I'm not going to lie to you, mini J. Lo, you've got me somewhat impressed. If there is one thing Sue Sylvester knows, it's a cheerleader in the zone. You're going to run sweet, slow Brittany through your typical routine and then you're going to take the lead. Do you know your spotting and positioning in that role?"

I stiffen at the insinuation that Brittany is dumb, but manage to keep my face blank.

"Yes, Coach."

"Good. You're my new and improved Fabray. I get all of the talent and good looks, with the added bonus of the ethnic diversity afforded by your slightly darker, but not threateningly so, skin tone. It's a win-win. However, I want to make it clear that you will be required to sign an abstinence pledge promising that you will allow no one, boy or girl, near your lady bits. Also, I will expect you to either quit the Glee Club or take it down. Think you can handle all that, Cha-cha DiGregorio?"

From the second Coach mentions Quinn my whole body is on edge. I could never be an "improved" version of our former captain. She's basically perfect. But when Coach specifies that her ridiculous abstinence pledge applies to anyone, "boy or girl," I immediately zone out and feel my stomach give a violent lurch that threatens to expel the Gatorade I just drank.

_She can't possibly know, she's just saying that because she's ridiculous—if she's worried about another pregnancy, why mention girls? Shit, Coach asked me a question I think._

I give her a sharp nod, not sure what exactly her question was, but also not trusting my voice at this point.

"Good. You are officially Head Cheerio. Don't screw it up. Now get to work."

"Yes, Coach." I jog off to gather my teammates and run through the routine.

"Listen up, bitches, we're going to run through the Nationals routine. Britt- you'll take my usual spot. Who thinks they can step into Brittany's spot?" I scan the crowd until I see a hand go up. "Alright, Ali, it's all you. We'll take it at 75% speed without music so we can get used to our new roles, and we'll stop to work through key points. Any questions? No? Okay good. Let's get started."

I'm pleasantly surprised that not a single soul challenges my de facto leadership. It occurs to me that Coach probably didn't announce my captaincy for this very reason; she wanted to see if they'd simply follow me without her making them. _Natural born leader. And bitch. Suck it, Sylvester._

Brittany is absolutely beaming at me as we move into our new starting positions, and I give her a quick wink before I count off to start the routine.

"5, 6, 7, 8!"

I've run this routine so many times I feel like I can do anyone's part easily, but I've watched Quinn so closely this is like second nature. We run through the dance routine, which is simple even without music because everyone does the same thing. Moving into the ground stunts is a little more complicated. Mine and Britt's handsprings and flips mirror each other, and she's basically art in motion, so I know she'll nail it. Ali has to take on a whole different sequence, and so do I.

"Okay, hold up. Looking good so far. Brittany, walk Ali through your order of flips. I need two spotters to watch me run through Qui- um, my flips before we try it all together."

I don't bother glancing at Coach, since I know she caught my slip. I let out a slight sigh as I realize that I'll probably always think of this spot as Quinn's. Somehow, she's still at the forefront of my mind. I can actually see her in my mind's eye, like she's hovering in front of me as I work. I look past her, but realize I still notice the little details of this invisible Quinn in my vision. I wonder briefly if I'm actually going insane.

"Nice job, Santana," one of the Cheerio guys says to me, and I realize with a start that I've just done my entire sequence without registering a single jump or flip. In the zone feels a lot like obsessing over Quinn and it's freaking me the fuck out.

"Uh, thanks. I'm going to run it one more time."

He nods at me seriously and I realize I don't even know his name. I'll have to ask Quinn later so I don't embarrass myself by asking him. _If she's still there…_

I close my eyes briefly against the onslaught of fear that my best friend will be gone and I will die a little when I get home. _Focus._

I jump up and arch my back, reaching for the floor. _She'll be there._ I feel the slight give of the mat underneath my hands and tighten my abs and hip flexors to swing my legs over. _Just be ready in case she isn't. _I look at the break in the bleachers as I come right side up, then repeat the process two more times. After the third back handspring I jump into a backflip, pulling my arms and legs in tight. _It doesn't matter either way. _When my feet hit the ground, I immediately focus some of my momentum and the energy of my jump into twisting my body; my legs stay straight this time as my feet fly up and over my head. _You'll always forgive her. _I spot the floor and come down neatly, poised to grab the hands of the guys on either side of me. I flip forward with their hands guiding me, my feet landing on their flexed thighs. _Because you love her. _At this point in the real routine, the pyramid will have been built up just behind us, and I will be flipped up to the top. I've completely nailed Quinn's tumbles, and I let out a breathy laugh of relief. I hop down from my perch on the guys' legs and look at my feet, running the back of my hand across my forehead and eyes to wipe away some sweat and surreptitiously clear my eyes of a few tears.

"That was perfect, dude. Definitely better than Quinn's first try at it," No-Name is giving me a big old flirty grin and I automatically roll my eyes.

"Yeah, well…" I realize I have no good comeback because I don't loathe/love Quinn anymore, I just love her, and my snark at this point would probably only serve to put that on display. "I've practiced it before." Lie. "I should probably go show Britt my old routine," Lie again, "so we can finish up and get out of here." At least that true, I do want to get out of here so I can find out of Quinn has decided to be the amazing girl I know she is or the biggest asshole on earth.

I walk away before he can respond. I'm not in the mood for any guy right now, let alone one who thinks he can get in with me by comparing me to the incomparable Quinn Fabray.

"How we doing over here, girls? Britt- did you want to run through my sequence?"

Brittany looks at me like I've just asked her if she wants to help me with my stats homework. I look at her pointedly and incline head my slightly.

"Yeah, sure. Good idea…?" She responds slowly, trying to figure out what I want her to do.

"Okay. Ali, are you good on Britt's jumps?"

"I think so, I'm just not positive about the timing," Ali says confidently. She's a freshman, and I'm surprised she's willing to actually speak in my presence, especially to admit she's not 100% perfect at something. I like her a hell of a lot more now than I did yesterday.

"No worries, we'll work on that when we get the group together. B, let's go work the sequence at the mats. The rest of you, grab a quick drink, then work base set up and flyer positioning for the baskets. No tossing yet, just lead into the set ups."

I turn and walk with Brittany to the mats.

"You know I don't need help with this, and Coach probably knows that too. What's up?"

"Quinn stayed over last night." I watch her reaction carefully, and am not disappointed.

Brittany's mouth drops open and then quickly snaps shut, her eyes have widened comically, and her head shakes quickly back in forth before her mouth breaks into a huge smile.

"What? No way! That's amazing, Santana. So are you guys friends again now? Is that why you weren't in school today? Hang on, I'm going to do the first flip so it looks like we're working."

I watch her do a quick back handspring and then go back to talking. I move my hands like I'm explaining what to do.

"Well, there's more to it, which I promise we will talk about when we have more time, but basically we fought and I left her with an ultimatum…" I take in Britt's blank look and realize that word is confusing her, "…a decision…that she needs to either be my friend and learn to talk things through or leave the house by the time I get back because I can't let her ruin me again." My voice is strained with worry, and I know it's obvious to my uber intuitive friend.

Brittany's face is expressionless, but her eyes are thoughtful. She nods a couple of times, then turns on the mat and perfectly executes the entire sequence of jumps and flips I used to do in the routine.

She walks back towards me.

"She'll still be there," she says without stopping.

I follow her back towards the group, willing myself to trust Britt's insightfulness.

"Let's take it from the end of the dance routine to the start of the pyramid set up. We'll run this until we've got it, so really focus on making this as seamless as possible."

Everyone moves into the positions they finish the dance routine in.

"I'm gonna go ahead and stop you all right there," Coach says, "We're going to run this part live, right now. Music and everything."

I want to protest, because I know this is dangerous, but I'm pretty certain she won't listen. I_ just_ got named captain and going against Sue Sylvester is like fighting the laws of physics—pointless. _Quinn would've said something. You need to say something._

"Cue music," I hear Coach yell at her minions.

The music comes on and instinctively I start moving, taking my mark as I wait for the choreographed tandem flips behind me to be completed. I'm just a few beats from starting my sequence when I hear an awful smack, a collective gasp, and bodies hitting the ground. I turn around and see Britt and Ali lying on the floor next to each other. _Oh shit._

I an instant I'm kneeling beside them. Brittany has pulled her feet in so they are flat on the floor, and her hands are behind her head. She's looking up and taking deep breaths, and I can tell she's just had the wind knocked out of her and gotten a few bumps and bruises. Ali, on the other hand, is still. Her eyes flutter open, but she looks dazed. I can see the underside of her eye and her cheek starting to swell.

"Ali, don't move okay?"

She looks at me in confusion, and then fear.

"I'm so sorry. Is Brittany okay? I knew my timing was off."

I feel sick to my stomach. I never should've let Coach make us go at this full speed.

"It's not your fault…" I want to explain that it's _my _fault, but I'm interrupted by Coach coming over with the athletic trainer in tow.

"Get back, Lopez. Practice is over. Tell the team we'll be back in the gym tomorrow at 4 and then send everybody home."

I stand and nod mutely, then turn to help Brittany up.

"Britt…I'm sorry. Are you okay? This is my fault," I whisper to my best friend.

"I'm fine, and it's not your fault, it's Coach's fault. And really it's my own fault for not working with Ali more."

I roll my eyes and shake my head.

"We'll talk about all of the ways you're wrong in a minute, let me get these guys out of here."

I walk over to where most of the squad has gathered and take a deep breath.

"Okay, guys, we're done for the day. We're back in the gym tomorrow at 4. Make sure you guys stretch really well and ice anything that's hurting. See you tomorrow."

They look kind of dejected as they head off to the locker room, and I feel a flash of guilt. Part of being the captain is regulating Coach's crazy and I had failed on my very first day. The squad knew that as well as I did.

I walked back over to Britt, who was stretching out her muscles slowly. She popped back up when I got to her.

"Do you need a ride home?" I wanted to talk to her more, and I felt responsible for her getting hurt.

"You _drove _here?" Brittany looks somehow both impressed and concerned.

We start walking for the exit. Britt's got her bag so I guess she doesn't need anything in the locker room.

"Well, yeah. My parents weren't home and I was pissed at Quinn and you were already here," I explained with a shrug.

"I still would've come to get you, San." Britt is giving me a look as if to say "duh."

"I know, B. I just was running late and didn't think to ask until it was too late anyway. I guess you have your mom's car today?"

"Yeah. Thanks for offering to illegally drive me home though." She gives me a grin that eases some of the tension I feel.

"Anytime." I tell her with laugh.

"Do you want me to follow you home, though?" Brittany is looking at me seriously.

I doubt she's worried about me driving illegally; she's probably worried about what will happen when I get home. I am too, but I consider the possibility of Quinn being there and having to send Britt away, and that just seems mean. No, I've got to face this alone.

"I'll be okay. I'll call you if she isn't there, I'm sure."

We've reached the parking lot, and we're standing next to my car.

"Huh? No, I meant do you want me to follow you home because you don't have a permit and could be arrested or something if you're caught. I already told you that Quinn will be there, and she will."

Without even thinking about it I pull Brittany into a tight hug. She hugs me back and I hear her whisper urgently.

"This is it Santana. You've got her back. Don't let her go again. I love you."

I pull away and give her a slightly watery smile.

"I love you too, B. You're the best."

"I know. And I'm following you home just in case," she says as she starts walking backwards to her car.

I roll my eyes at her and get in my car, filled with a nervous excitement. I trust Britt's intuition, but the nerves are still there. Even if Quinn _is _at home, there is plenty to be nervous about.

I see Britt get in her mom's car and take a deep breath before starting the engine. I feel like I'm on the precipice of a life changing moment. _Only one way to find out._


	8. Promising Promises

**A/N: Okay, I'm gonna stop here for tonight. I don't have a timetable for how often I'll update, but it'll probably be pretty quickly as long as work is reasonable this week. ****Figured this was a good place to stop for now. Enjoy!**

* * *

**QUINN**

I'm ready for Santana to come home now. Writing to her has proven to be the balm I needed for the terror I felt, and I feel serene and prepared to talk things out with my best friend. Shutting her out seems ridiculous now, and I'm glad I've beaten out the crazy this time. I'm really hoping she'll beat her parents home so we can talk without any interruptions. Plus, I know she's not supposed to drive yet.

I walk downstairs and grab myself a glass of water, then go back upstairs and check my phone.

**Finn: R u still at Satan's**

I roll my eyes.

**Me: Yes, I'm still at Santana's.**

**Finn: Y?**

Holy hell, his use of letters as words in texts bothers the crap out of me.

**Me: I needed to talk to her. I'll let you know if I'm staying again.**

**Finn: Fine**

I roll my eyes again and put my phone down so I don't type a long, bitchy message back to him. He's not a bad guy and I've screwed him over pretty badly. I sigh and flop back on Santana's bed, popping up quickly when I hear a car in the driveway.

I look out the window and see Santana getting out of her car. She gives a short wave and says something to a car that stops at the end of her driveway with the window down. The car pulls away quickly and I recognize that it's the car Brittany sometimes drives.

My heart goes into overdrive and my stomach does a flip as I wait impatiently for Santana to come up to her room. I hear the door open and close downstairs, and the faint sound of footsteps on the stairway. She should be opening the door now, but nothing happens. I briefly hold my breath to listen more carefully, and hear a slight shuffle and a thud on the door. I want to go open the door myself but instead I stand stock still, wringing my hands.

Just when I think my heart might explode, the door knob starts to turn and my breath catches again.

* * *

**SANTANA**

I walk in the front door and decide not to waste any time. I head straight up the stairs, willing my momentum to carry me straight into my room. Instead I stop in front of my door and let my bag slide of my shoulder to the floor. My breathing is shallow, and I lean my forehead against the door as I try to steel myself for the next few moments. I pick my bag up and turn the doorknob.

I cautiously open the door until I spot Quinn, and then I throw it the rest of the way open in triumph. I drop my bag unceremoniously and stride over to her purposefully. She's wearing a teary smile, and I wrap my arms around her waist without hesitation. I feel her arms encircle my neck and I pick her up slightly in an enthusiastic hug. When her feet touch the ground, Quinn leans back to look me in the eye, and then places a gentle kiss on my lips.

"I have something for you," she says, her voice a little shaky.

She disengages herself from my arms and walks to my desk to pick up a tri-folded piece of paper. She hands it to me nervously, and I look at it pensively. Quinn is a brilliant writer, and it occurs to me that giving her the time to write her thoughts might have been the best thing I've ever done.

I take her hand and lead her to the bed, before I flop down on my stomach and start to open the folds of the paper.

"I'm, uh, I'm gonna go downstairs and grab a snack," Quinn says from behind me.

I look over my shoulder at her.

"You don't want to watch me read this?"

"I do, but it's nerve-wracking," she admits quietly.

"Quinn, you're here. That was my biggest fear the past couple of hours. Whatever is written here will be a bonus. I'm already in heaven."

She chews at her lip and acquiesces with a nod, sliding on to the bed next me. She lies on her back with her head turned to me, looking apprehensive. I lean over and place a kiss on her lips, then grab her hand and pull it up to my mouth, placing my lips gently against it. Her smile is all I need to feel complete.

I keep her hand in mine as I unfold the letter with my right hand and smooth it against the comforter. I take a deep breath, and begin reading.

_My dearest Santana,_

_For some reason it is always so much easier to write my feelings than to express them vocally. I know you know my quirks as well as I do, so I know you'll see so much more than just words on this paper. I can almost picture you reading this as I'm writing, and I can see you looking straight into my heart. Somehow this is comforting rather than terrifying, which is essentially what I felt when we were talking earlier. I'm sorry for that; I hate it when you hurt because of me. I promise I'll work on being better for you, or at least more like myself before your birthday. I miss the simplicity of our friendship back then. I know we can get there again. I will __always__ come back to you, Santana. Always. That's a promise._

_I want to write you beautiful, eloquent words, but I know that is not what you want or need right now. You need to know this: __I am staying__. I can't be without you, and even though I don't know what's going to happen, I know you are right: I only want to face this unknown future with you by my side._

_Honestly, I have no idea what this means. Here is what I do know: I know that I love you so deeply I could drown in it. I know that I want you all to myself, and that the thought of you with someone else hurts my heart. I know that I don't love Finn, and what I'm doing to him is wrong. I'm going to tell him the truth this weekend, after sectionals. I know that I'm terrified of giving birth, and the fact that I love this baby so much already. I know that because I love her, I can't keep her, and it breaks my heart a little bit every day. I know that the only time I've felt safe since I found out I was pregnant has been in this room with you. I know that your arms feel more like home than anything I've ever experienced. I know that I'm going to have a hard time dealing with things that are out of my control, and that I'm going to fail you more than I care to admit. I also know that I will always keep fighting, no matter what you or I may say to one another, or how hopeless things seem, I will find my way back to you eventually._

_In the absence of my own beautiful words to give you, I am reminded a quote from Les __Misérables__ that I've always loved, but only recently understood:_

"_Love participates of the soul itself. It is of the same nature. Like it, it is the divine spark; like it, it is __**incorruptible**__, __**indivisible**__, __**imperishable.**__ It is a point of fire that exists within us, which is __**immortal**__ and __**infinite**__, which nothing can confine, and which nothing can extinguish. We feel it burning even to the very marrow of our bones, and we see it beaming in the very depths of heaven."_

_Santana, I feel you in the marrow of my bones, and in your face I see the very light of heaven. My love for you is incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable, immortal, and infinite. I will not quit on us, not because I'm brave, but simply because I __cannot__ quit on us. You are a part of me, San—the most beautiful, best part of me. I love you so much, and I will for as long as I live._

_Yours-_

_Quinn_

I read it twice before I look back over at my best friend. She is staring at me, taking in my reaction to her words. She removes her hand from mine and wipes away a tear falling down my cheek. She cups my face and smiles at me.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you, too." My voice is barely above a whisper. "This is beautiful, Quinn. It's so perfect. I want you to know that I'll do anything I can to keep you safe and happy. No matter what happens, okay?"

She nods silently, then her hand on my cheek guides my face to hers, and our teary kiss is soft and meaningful. It's a promise between us, and I put everything into making her feel how much I mean it.

We lie together quietly for a bit, sharing an occasional tender kiss and holding each other close.

"My parents will be home soon," I finally say. "I should take a shower, and maybe we could start dinner before they get home. I'm starving. Oh, and I need to text Britt."

Quinn smiles at me and nods. I hop up and grab my phone.

**Me: She's here B. We're good :)**

I start undressing.

"_SAN! _Please do that in the bathroom."

I laugh at Quinn's whiny tone of voice and slide my skirt off anyway, leaving me in my sports bra and spankies. I hear a frustrated groan and turn to watch Quinn throw herself back on the bed, covering her eyes with her arms. I hear the ding of my phone and pick it up.

**Britt: I TOLD YOUUUU!**

**Me: Hahaha I know you did. How are you after your mighty crash at practice?**

**Britt: Psssh not even sore. Tell Q I say hiiiii and I love her like whoa, and Im so glad you guys are gonna be besties again**

**Me: Will do. See you tomorrow 3 you**

**Britt: Later gatorrrr**

"Brittany says hi and that she, and I quote, 'loves you like whoa and is so glad we're gonna be besties again,'" I tell Quinn with a little laugh.

Quinn laughs and peeks up at me, groaning at my near nudity and throwing her head back down.

I giggle and walk into the bathroom.

"You're safe now, I'm totally out of sight," I call back to the exasperated girl on my bed.

"Not really, kind of burned into my brain now!" I hear her yell back in mock anger and I laugh heartily as I step into the water.

I let the water run over my head for a minute, my eyes closed as I lean against the shower wall. Today has been a crazy day, and my mind flashes back to Ali and Britt crashing to the floor. I wince involuntarily at the thought and run my hands over the face. I turn my back to the water and reach for my shampoo.

I freeze when I see Quinn standing just outside the tub with her hand on the curtain, leaning against the wall opposite the showerhead. Her eyes are roving over my body hungrily, and the want in them is palpable.

"Come here," she whispers urgently.

I don't hesitate, taking a single long step to stand in front of her. I'm taller than her, standing in the tub, but she rises on the balls of her feet to meet me halfway. Our mouths meet with passion, my wet body is pressed against her fully clothed one, and her hands slide along my slippery back. Both of my hands cup her jaw and neck, pulling her closer to me. I feel her hands glide up my sides as she pulls away from my mouth and starts planting kisses down my jaw and neck. She sucks hard for a second at the flesh where my neck meets my collarbone, then bites down gently, smiling at the little gasp that I can't contain. I know where this is going, but I feel altogether powerless to stop it. In a brief moment of clarity I bring my hands back to her face and detach her from my skin, pulling her mouth back to mine. I push my tongue into her mouth without hesitation, and feel a hot rush of wetness between my legs when she immediately responds with her own tongue, dueling with mine for control. Without warning, I feel her hand slide up between my thighs, just barely brushing my center. I know I shouldn't, but I pick up my leg anyway, propping my foot on the edge of the tub and opening myself to her. Quinn leans back and looks into my eyes as she gently runs her finger through my wetness. My eyes close as a shudder runs through my body. When my eyes open again and meet hers, she moves her fingers to my entrance and they circle leisurely before she pushes one finger insi-

"San? Are you almost done?" I hear Quinn ask from the door.

_Holy SHIT._

"Uh, yeah Quinn, out in a minute," I call back, my voice shaky and thick.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Are my parents home?"

"Your dad just pulled up."

"Okay."

_Did I seriously just have a full on sex fantasy about Quinn when she's right in the next room? Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT._

At least I seem to have been on autopilot, because I've got conditioner in my hair. I rinse quickly and wash my body even faster, not shocked in the least to find myself embarrassingly wet. I rinse and turn off the water, grabbing a towel and drying myself as fast as I can.

I carefully wrap myself in the towel and go into my bedroom, actively avoiding looking at Quinn for as long as possible. I wrench a pair of McKinley Titans basketball shorts and a baggy Nike sweatshirt out of my dresser, and then reach for a clean sports bra and the least sexy underwear I can find. I gather them all up in a ball and unceremoniously carry them back into the bathroom to get dressed.

When I emerge, Quinn is giving me a questioning look. I use the hair tie on my wrist and put my hair up in a sloppy, wet bun. I flash her a quick smile.

"Ready? I figure we can go start dinner." I keep my voice light and finally look fully at her. I can feel the heat rising to my face from just one look.

"Sure," she says slowly. She tosses her feet off the side of the bed and stands in front of me. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, great." I press my lips to hers for a second. "You're just too beautiful to look at sometimes."

Quinn tilts her head to the side, and squints her eyes at me for a second.

"Thank you, but you're going to tell me what's really on your mind eventually, you know that, right?"

"I sure do, pretty lady, but for now, we should head downstairs." I bop her on the nose with my pointer finger and toss a quick kiss on her cheek before I head to the door.


	9. Awesomeness is Genetic

**SANTANA**

"Dad?" I call out downstairs.

"Yes, mija?"

My dad sticks his head out from his downstairs office and smiles when he sees me.

"Quinn and I were going to start dinner, did you want anything specific?"

"I think Mom said she was going to make homemade pizza tonight, so there should be ingredients for that in the fridge," he spots Quinn round the stairs behind me and says, "Hiya Quinn!"

"Hi, Mr. L," she answers in a singsong voice before traipsing into the kitchen.

"Do you guys need help?" Dad offers.

"No, we've got this. Do you know when Mom will be home?"

"Probably pretty soon, she got caught at the office but didn't think it would be too late before she got back."

"Okay, I'll call for you when it's ready."

"Thanks sweetheart." He disappears back into his office.

I walk into the kitchen to find Quinn has already started taking out ingredients. She's wearing the sweatpants I gave her this morning, but took off the sweatshirt and pulled on a snug black tank top that she must've grabbed from my dresser. Her tiny baby pump actually looks cute in this outfit, and I want so badly to wrap her in my arms.

We settle in beside each other and start putting dinner together. We joke and tease each other over silly things, and I find myself laughing hysterically and Quinn's goofiness. She's a total dork, and she brings out my inner dork too.

When my mom comes walking into the kitchen, Quinn and I are engaged in a battle of Sean Connery impressions. We're laughing so hard at each other we're practically snorting, and my mom smiles at us affectionately.

"You're both goofballs," she says with a shake of her head. "How much longer until dinner is ready?"

"About 8 minutes," Quinn answers after a quick glance at the timer.

"Do you mind if I steal my daughter for a minute then?"

I look at my mom in surprise.

"Of course not! I'll start setting the table," Quinn says brightly, and for some reason I find this so endearing that I want to kiss her on the spot.

Instead, I follow my mom to my dad's office, and feel my stomach turn. I have no idea why my parents want to talk to me alone, especially with a guest over, but I can't imagine it's a good thing. I sit down on the arm of the small couch in the office and wait.

"We want to talk to you about Quinn," my mother starts.

My blood runs cold. _No fucking way._ _Less than 24 hours. Fuckity Fuck Fuck. Motherfucker!_

"Since you told your mother about Puck being the father of her baby, we've been really concerned. It's only a matter of time before this comes to light, and Quinn will not be able to stay with the Hudson's. Plus, it's really not fair to do this to Finn," my dad continues.

_Oh thank you sweet baby Jesus, oh thank Christ. Thank you, thank you, thank you._

"I know, we've talked about this somewhat. She's going to tell Finn the truth this weekend; she just made a poor decision because she was scared." I don't know why I feel like I need to defend Quinn, my parents haven't been accusatory at all.

"Well, we're not all that concerned with that part of it. But, if she's going to tell Finn, where will she live?" My dad asks.

Both of their eyes are on me, as I realize I hadn't really considered that far in advance. _God, how could I miss that? She can't live with _Puck _of all people. Ugh._

"I-I don't know. I don't think she does either." I tell them honestly.

My parents exchange a glance before my mother speaks up.

"I know you guys have just reconnected as friends, and this might seem like a lot, but we think Quinn should move in here with us. But we want to make sure you are comfortable with that before we offer our home up to her."

I feel my jaw drop. I want to cry and laugh at the same time. _No way._

"I think that would be amazing. You guys are awesome," I choke out before I feel tears on my cheeks.

I stand up and walk to my parents, enveloping them both in a big hug.

"Great, we'll talk to her over dinner then."

I smile at them and wipe at my eyes.

"Perfect."

* * *

**QUINN**

I love eating dinner with the Lopez family. They talk and joke and tease each other throughout the meal, and I love seeing Santana get double the sass than she gives out. There is so much love here that it makes me feel lighter and happier just watching them.

Right when dinner is finishing up, Mrs. L clears her throat and I notice that all eyes are on me.

"Quinn, we'd like to talk to you about something important."

My heart clenches tightly and I feel nerves settle over me. I nod, and try to steal a glance at Santana. I'm surprised when she gives me a little reassuring smile and reaches out openly to grab my hand on top of the table.

"I don't know if Santana ever told you this, but I got pregnant with her at 17." I cast a quick look at Santana, who gives me a slight nod, and then turn my attention back to Mrs. Lopez. "My mother, thankfully, didn't throw me out despite her threats to do so. And I was also very lucky to have this wonderful guy by my side who stuck with me through it all." Mrs. L pats her husband's shoulder. "We obviously got married and have managed to make it work, but I was very lucky."

I nod, uncertain of what to say to this revelation. A look is passed between the three members of the Lopez clan, and I feel sure I'm missing something. Mr. Lopez speaks up next.

"Quinn, we want you to move in here with us for as long as you need. Forever, if that's what you'd like. It's entirely up to you, but we want you to know that we'd love to have you."

My heart stops in my chest for a second, and my mouth goes dry. I whip my head around to look at Santana, who is grinning through watery eyes and nodding at me. I know my mouth is hanging open, but I can't seem to find words. Finally I drop my head down and bury my face in my hands for a second. When I pick my head back up I'm grinning and nodding.

"I'd love to live with you guys. You are like the family I've never really had already."

"Oh, honey…" Mrs. L sounds heartbroken for a second. She comes around the table and wraps me in her arms tightly. "We're gonna take good care of you, sweetheart," she whispers in my ear before releasing me into a big bear hug from Mr. Lopez.

I spot Santana standing off to the side, waiting her turn, and I want to literally leap into her arms. When Mr. L lets me go I pretty much do just that, and we hold each other tightly for a long minute before we let go.

"I'll call Carole Hudson and see about you going to pick up your belongings. We think it's better if you move here before you tell Finn," Mrs. Lopez says.

I feel my face flush with embarrassment, and I look down at my feet.

"You know?" I ask ashamedly.

"Yes. But it's water under the bridge, Quinn. You did what you felt you had to do, but Tana tells us you plan on telling Finn the truth."

I peek at Santana and she looks at me encouragingly.

"I'm going to tell him this weekend, so we can deal with it in private."

"Okay then, I'll talk to Carole and see if we can get your things tonight or tomorrow."

I feel a flutter of nerves at the thought of seeing Finn again, or his mother. I've really screwed up, but I know telling them is for the best.

Santana reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a little squeeze and smiling at me.

"It'll be okay, Q. I promise."

* * *

**SANTANA**

Quinn and I clear the table, and I can tell she's nervous about Carole and Finn being upset that she's moving out. She's moving slowly, silently, and I think she's straining to hear my mom's phone conversation. I can't take her discomfort anymore, so I grab her hand and pull her into the living room. I know we're alone, so I sneak a quick peck to her cheek and pick up the phone. I hope my mom won't hear the click when we join the line, but I don't think she'll be too upset if she catches us. I press the button and pull Quinn closer to me so we can both listen in. She looks a little horrified to be eavesdropping, but I know she'll cave because this shit is important to her. We're silent as we listen.

"_Are you sure you don't mind taking her in, Maribel? I feel like it's my responsibility to take this on_," we hear Carole first.

"_We don't mind, and we've got the room to do it. Quinn and Santana are so close, now that they've patched things up I have a feeling we'd have Quinn here more often than not anyway."_

"_I'm a little concerned that Finn might be upset. He really wants to do right by her, but I think their relationship is struggling. He thinks she likes someone else, and I'm almost positive that he does."_

My eyebrows are in my hairline and I look at Quinn, but she just gives me a shrug as if to say "don't know, don't care."

"_Finn might be upset at first, but I'm sure Quinn will talk to him about everything when they're away from school and can have a minute. We just want to get her set up here as quickly as possible so that we can all get settled into a routine and disrupt the kids' lives as little as possible."_

"_Okay, well come over whenever you'd like. Quinn doesn't have that much stuff here. Her parents didn't give her much time to gather her things."_

I glance carefully at Quinn at the mention of her parents, and I can see her expression is hard. I really fucking hate those people.

"_Ugh, those people are such assholes of the highest order. Thanks Carole, I'll send Miguel over with the girls. Is Finn home right now?"_

I stifle a snort at my mother's language, and I see Quinn grin as well.

"_No he's out with one of the glee club girls, Rachel, I think."_

Again I look at Quinn, but her face looks unaffected by this revelation.

"_Ah, I see. I'll send everyone over now, they'll probably be there in about 15 minutes._

I turn the phone off and put it back on the charger. I grab Quinn's hand and hurry back to the kitchen and pretend to keep cleaning up.

"Santana Diabla Lopez," my mother says in her serious tone.

I decide to go with sweet and innocent, but I know I'm screwed if my mom asks Quinn, she'll totally cave.

"Yes, mami?" I ask, turning on the charm.

"Sé que estuviste en el teléfono, Santana."

"No sé lo que está hablando."

"Santana! Do not lie to me."

I jump when she yells my name, and I see Quinn do the same.

"Lo siento. Please don't be mad, Mom. Quinn estaba nervioso, por lo que escuchó. We weren't trying to be rude."

"We'll talk about this later, Santana. For now, go with your father to gather Quinn's belongings from the Hudson's." She turns to my mute friend standing next to me, "Quinn, do you think it will take long?"

"No, Mrs. L. I don't have much besides a suitcase and a couple of other things, and I've never bothered to unpack them."

My mom's face contorts very briefly in sympathy for Quinn and anger for her parents.

"Okay, sweetheart, well go grab it. We'll all go out for some girl time and go shopping for anything else you need later. Maybe we can go out on Black Friday or something." Mom gives her a big smile at that, and Quinn smiles back as we move towards the door.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lopez," Quinn says as she wraps my mother in a hug.

"I'll run upstairs and grab our shoes and stuff," I mumble, knowing I'm still in trouble.

Quinn reaches out as I pass by and grabs me, pulling me into the hug. It's a genius move, because my mom won't actually refuse to hug me, especially not when Quinn has involved me. I make a point to squeeze them both tight, then pull back and run up the stairs to grab Quinn a sweatshirt, find myself some sweatpants, and grab us both some sneakers to wear.

I'm back downstairs in a second, and we're dressed to go a minute later.

"Ready?" my father asks us.

I look at Quinn, and she gives me silent, nervous nod.

"Let's do it," I say with confidence, and link my elbow with Quinn's as I lead her to the car.


	10. Let's Make a Deal

**QUINN**

All of my stuff has been unpacked and I've had a long, stressful conversation with Finn on the phone. All I want to do now is curl into a ball with Santana, but I feel weird now that I have my own room. Am I supposed to stay in here now? I want to ask the beautiful Latina flopped on the guest room bed beside me, but her breathing is shallow and steady, and I don't want to wake her up. She looks wildly beautiful, her hair splayed out all around her head like a dark halo. Watching her breathe gives me an unexpected sense of tranquility in the midst of this crazy storm. The last 24 hours have been a complete whirlwind, completely outside of my typically carefully constructed game plan. Overall, I feel a weird combination of excitement, fear, relief, and apprehension, all at the same time. I'm not even going to get into the torrent of emotions that overtake me whenever Santana touches me.

"Q, stop worrying," I hear Santana groan next to me.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I was, but I could actually feel you getting older from worrying so much, so I woke up to keep you young and hot."

I laugh quietly and punch her shoulder lightly. She's still got her eyes closed and she's fighting the smile on her lips, trying to look serious.

"You're not worried at all? With everything going on?"

Santana finally opens her eyes and looks at me.

"I'm worried that you're going to have gray hair before your time. And I'm worried that you are worried. But on the whole? I feel like I've won a massive lottery ticket, just because you're here, and it's even better because now you _live _here." She sits up and kisses my cheek tenderly. "Seriously, Q, things are looking up. It's going to be ok."

"I believe you," I tell her, and I mean it. "But um…do I have to sleep in here?"

Santana lets out a snort.

"No, doofus. You're most definitely not sleeping in here. At least, not tonight."

I smile happily at that and grab some pajamas from my now unpacked things. I follow Santana across the hall, back to her room, closing the door behind me. It barely clicks shut before she's turned and has me pinned against the door, her mouth going straight to my neck. I gasp in shock as I feel her lips and tongue work their way down to my pulse point, where she nips my skin gently with her teeth. I feel weak in the knees, but I drop my clothes and pull her closer to me, tilting my head back to give her better access.

"You are so hot, Quinn," she whispers breathily between kisses. She moves her mouth directly to my ear and says, "I've been thinking about doing this all day." Her lips brush against the shell of my ear, and her warm breath against my skin sends my body into overdrive. The weakness in my knees disappears as I feel a jolt of energy and desire shoot through my body.

I grab fistfuls of the sweatshirt she is wearing and push her back away from my body. She looks surprised, but doesn't fight me at all. I reach down and grab the bottom of her sweatshirt and yank it up and over her head without the slightest resistance. I pull her against me and reconnect our mouths with renewed intensity. Santana is back in force, battling against my sudden dominance with vehemence, and it's easily the sexiest thing I've ever witnessed. Her hands grip my hips tightly, but she has the presence of mind to carefully avoid my baby bump. The thought slows my roll a bit, as I remember that I'm hooking up with my _exceedingly _hot best friend, whereas I am about 3 months pregnant, and it shows.

"What are you thinking about?" Santana asks me breathily, leaning her forehead against mine.

"My baby bump," I tell her honestly.

"Why?" she asks.

"Because you're super hot and I've got a mini beer gut."

She actually laughs at that, and I smile at her.

"Quinn, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, bar none. That hasn't changed with a baby bump, and it won't change when it's a basketball. I'm…always…going…to find you…irresistibly…sexy."

Santana punctuates her words with gentle kisses, her voice trailing off into a whisper. She tugs at the bottom of my shirt, and I lift my arms to let her pull it off me. I'm barely breathing as she steps in and kisses me slowly, her hands running down my sides. When she pulls back, she looks down between us, taking in her insanely flat stomach and my not so flat stomach. Santana gives me a little smile, then drops down to her knees and places an incredibly tender kiss to my bump, before rising back up to look me in the eye.

"I want all of you, Q. Every last inch…once you and Finn are officially done." She gives me another small kiss, and then picks up my pajamas for me, looking adorably contrite. I watch her walk to her dresser and I debate my next words.

_To hell with it, I __**want **__her._

"Actually, San, we kind of broke up over the phone earlier tonight," I tell her casually as I climb onto her bed and lay down.

Santana freezes in place and slowly, ever so slowly, turns her head to look at me.

"Kind of?" she inquires with her eyebrow cocked.

"We're done," I state with finality.

She puts the clothes she's holding down, climbs on to the bed, and practically stalks over to where I'm lying. My heart is thumping against my ribs erratically, but I legitimately want her more than I've ever wanted anything. She's hovering over me, but hasn't moved to touch me at all. I reach both hands up and pull her down on top of me, my lips finding hers insistently. Santana gives herself over to the kiss, holding nothing back, her tongue slipping against mine in a soft caress.

When she pulls back the look on her face is wistful and wanting all at once. Santana sighs deeply, and I know this isn't going to happen tonight.

"Why not, San?" I don't even try to hide my irritable whine from her.

"Because we have to go to school tomorrow, Q." She's looking at me solemnly. "Because I want to take my time with you. Because I want you to take your time with _me_. Because this is all really new, and I want everything between us to be as perfect as possible."

How can I argue with that? Never in my life would I have imagined that _Santana _would be the one with the self-control, and _I'd _be begging her to go against it. As horribly frustrating as it is, I can't help but appreciate her desire to do this right.

Santana the lover is incredibly sexy and skilled, Santana the caretaker is tender and adoring, Santana the girlfriend (?) is attentive and thoughtful. She continues to surprise and impress me, which is nothing short of amazing seeing how I've thought she is perfect for some time now.

"Fine," I huff at her. "Just try not to be so damn attractive all the time so that I can control myself until whenever you decide we're ready."

"Oh stop it. I can't help it that I'm a certified hottie, and I assure you that this is no picnic for me, either. Let's not forget that you realized you were attracted to me like 4 months ago, and I've been head over heels for youfor over a year. I want _us_ to decide when we're ready, and I honestly hope it's really, _really _soon."

She whispers the word "soon" against my lips and then places a quick kiss on my cheek before rolling to the side and lying down next to me. I can't help the smile on my face when she talks about wanting me for so long. I can't believe how lucky I am to have this girl in my life.

"Have I mentioned lately that you're amazing?" I ask her.

"Maybe once or twice," she gives me a wink and gets up to start changing.

I let out a long sigh and decide to change as well. We both look deliberately away from one another as we do so, then go to the bathroom and duel for positioning in front of the sink. We're giggling, spraying toothpaste everywhere with each laugh before eventually declaring a détente and climbing into bed.

Santana turns out the light, and I feel the question leave my lips before I've even considered if I actually want to know the answer.

"Have you had sex with Brittany?"

* * *

**SANTANA**

September 3, 2009

I'm laying half on top of Brittany, kissing her neck, and my hand is on the outside of her thigh underneath her Cheerios skirt. Our make out sessions have become more frequent as I've come to accept that Quinn isn't going to answer my phone calls, or my texts, or come to the door when I show up. She's only responded one time in over a month. Two texts, right in a row.

**Q-Ball: I'm sorry, Santana.**

**Q-Ball: I just need some time. I'll see you at school.**

I've stared at those messages more times than I care to admit. She didn't indicate a why or whether we'd be friends again when I saw her at school. I didn't text or call her anymore after that. Whenever I felt like talking to Quinn, I'd turn to Brittany instead.

It'd taken me two and a half weeks to even talk to Britt. I'd spent my time trying to get my best friend to stop pretending like I didn't exist and/or crying over the loss of my other half. When I got back to talking to people, there were only two I'd entertain: Brittany, and (God help me) Noah Puckerman.

Being around Puck generally makes me hate the entire male gender, at least the teenaged ones, but spending time with him serves an important purpose. Not long after we'd started hanging out we were officially "dating," and now I have my first boyfriend. God help me if anyone ever finds out _why_ I would date such a bona fide imbecile.

Brittany, on the other hand, is my antidote to Puck. She has accepted my uncertainty about being with a girl without question, and she rarely pushes me to dump Puckerman, even though I'm pretty sure she's the only one who has put the pieces together and figured out my ulterior motives. Britt has listened to my incessant complaining about Quinn, offering advice occasionally, but mostly just hearing me out.

When I'd finally shut my mouth about Quinn and put it to better uses with Brittany, I found that the ache in my heart hurt just a little bit less. With each rendezvous I felt myself get a little bit stronger. By the time we'd reported to school for our final week of Cheerios training before actual classes started I was able to handle seeing Quinn without my soul imploding. I was nothing short of cold to her, but Brittany made a point of being kind to her, bridging the awkward gap between us. For her part, Quinn took my abuse mostly without comment. She'd snap back sometimes, but her heart didn't seem to be in the insults she tossed my way after taking endless barbs from my vicious tongue.

Without Brittany, I never would've survived seeing Quinn act like she barely knew me. I'm pretty sure that I would have just quit the Cheerios and crawled into some kind of loser hole in the earth. Brittany is my lifeline. That's why, when Puck asked me to come over tonight, I'd decided to blow him off and see Britt instead. Having sex with Puck was a miserable ordeal, and even if all Britt and I did was kiss, I never left her feeling like shit.

I run my palm lightly from her hip down the outside of her thigh to her knee, and back again. Brittany shivers a little beneath me, and I smile at her before I press my mouth to hers. Britt's hands press into my back, pulling me tighter against her, and I feel the urgent desire in her kiss. She's incredibly beautiful, and I find myself captured by her blue eyes as I shift my body more directly on top of her. I slide my thigh between hers slowly, feeling her legs part as mine comes up against her center. I hear her let out a surprised gasp. I've been the biggest cock tease, or…whatever, since we started hooking up, so I don't blame her. For some reason, today I want _more_ with her.

I prop my upper body up on my arms and slowly rock my body against Britt's. Her eyes fall shut as my leg presses more firmly against her. I can feel the hot wetness that has gathered between her legs, and my body responds immediately with a surge of wetness of my own. I grind my leg against her again, and hear a softly whispered _yes _fall from her lips. As I roll once more, I feel Britt pull her thigh up against my pussy and I let out a sharp breath. She's grasping my hips firmly now, and opens her eyes to look at me. She smiles and gives me a little nod, and it's all I need to start a quick rhythm. I'm not surprised that Brittany matches my tempo perfectly, and soon we're both breathing hard as we grind into each other again and again.

We don't speak save for the occasional _FUCK _or _God, yes _or _don't stop. _It's so fucking hot, and Brittany's expression is turning me on even more. She's all hunger, her features stuck somewhere between pleasure, sheer joy, and absolute desire. I feel my face flush even further when her dilated eyes look directly into mine and I see her mouth form a breathy _fuck. _

"Fuck Britt, I'm so close," I practically whimper.

"Me too, God, me too. I wanna see you come," she whispers before letting out a sexy little grunt after a particularly hard grind.

All at once my orgasm washes over me. My skin tingles and I can feel my walls pulsing, my lungs release all of the air in my body at once. I'm frozen for a moment, but feel Brittany continue to move herself against my rigid thigh.

My eyes are squeezed shut, but I feel Britt tighten beneath me and let out a torrent of whispered swear words before she collapses against the bed and releases my hips all at once. I follow her, letting my body relax on top of hers for a second before rolling off to the side.

We lay quietly for a minute, both of us on our backs, panting. Suddenly I hear Brittany start to giggle quietly, and for some reason I find this rather adorable, and I start laughing too. When we finally settle back down, Britt rolls onto her side and slides her arm over my waist.

"Not bad for a first timer," she says in a half joking tone.

I peek up to look at her, and realize she's actually giving me legitimate feedback. I smile at her and shake my head, thankful once again to have such a brilliant best friend. Only Brittany would know that my first thought was whether or not I was good.

"Actually, you're kind of brilliant for a first timer. I'm impressed."

"Shaddup," I tell her, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

"I'm just sayin'."

"Yeah, yeah."

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana is quiet, and the silence washes over us in the dark. I feel my stomach clench slightly, because I'm pretty sure her quietness is an answer in itself.

"Yes," I hear her say finally.

"Oh."

"Not to minimize it or anything, but we never like…used our hands or our mouths or anything," I can hear the discomfort in her voice at talking about this.

"Okay," I reply, because I can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you mad or something, Q?" Santana's voice is quiet.

"No, San. I don't even know why I asked. I think I'm just nervous," I tell her honestly.

"Nervous about what?"

"Well, that I won't be good or something. I want you _so_ badly, but I don't know what I'm even supposed to do. My one sexual experience was pretty much God awful. I dunno, I don't want you to be disappointed."

"You're crazy as hell, Quinn." I hear Santana laugh.

"I'm serious! Please don't blow this off," I tell her seriously, earning me a loud sigh.

"Remember earlier tonight when you told me I'd have to tell you what was on my mind eventually?"

I'd honestly forgotten about that, so I'm pretty surprised she's bringing it up voluntarily.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well the reason I was so flustered, Lucy Q, was because I'd had an incredibly hot sex fantasy about you while I was in the shower, and it was hard to look at you without getting _extremely_ aroused. The mere idea of being with you does things to my body that I can't begin to describe. So whenever I get to actually experience this rather long term fantasy mine, I'm pretty sure I'm going enjoy every single second. Please stop worrying, okay beautiful?"

Santana reaches out and pulls me closer to her, and I know she's seen my smile when she flashes me a big grin and plants her lips just above my left eyebrow. I turn into her and nuzzle my head against her soft breasts, earning a low laugh. I know she's rolling her eyes at me, but she doesn't push me away.

"Okay," I finally respond, letting out a soft sigh and closing my eyes.

_This is my heaven, _I think as I relax into Santana's warm embrace.


	11. What Goes Up

**SANTANA**

At school the next day, I can sense that something is completely off before I even reach first period. The Glee kids all look like some important Broadway star that no one really cares about has died, and they're whispering with each other as if they're coming up with a plan of action to bring said unknown "star" back to life. I know I've got to figure out what the hell is going on, so I grab Brittany between classes and we corner the Crying Asian, Something Something-Chang, and ask her what the deal is.

"Rachel was poking around for information about Puck and Quinn. She seems to think that there is 'something going on there,'" she confesses, looking scandalized and moderately concerned.

I personally feel like someone has pulled the floor out from under me, and I place a hand as casually as possible on Britt's shoulder to steady myself.

"Listen here, Asian #1, we need to put this shit on lockdown. Not a word to _anyone_ until we can all come up with a plan. Got it?"

Chang nods furiously, and Britt leads me away to the nearest bathroom.

"Calm down, Santana."

I duck down to check the stalls. All clear.

"Calm down?! Brittany…Quinn moved into my house. She's going to tell Finn what's going on. If Berry sticks her GIGANTIC fucking shnoz into their business, I'm gonna kill that psychotic little bitch diva on the spot."

"Whoa." Britt looks positively overwhelmed with all the information I just told her. I feel a flash of guilt that I'm just now telling her so many things, when normally she'd be the first I'd tell.

"Yeah, whoa. Humpty Dumpty Hudson deserves Quinn telling him the truth, even if he's nearly brain dead, and if Berry blabs that shit no one will ever put that awkwardly round egg back together again. Not only that, but Q _needs_ the opportunity to set things straight, too. Plus…" I know it's selfish to even be thinking about me right now, but I can't help it, and my frustration comes bursting forth, "GOD! Why can't we have 5 minutes to figure our own shit out?!"

I grab the sides of a sink and lean over it, gripping as tightly as I can. I'm actually seeing red, amongst other colors that cloud my vision. I close my eyes tightly, and I try to contain the fury that I can feel swirling inside of me.

Brittany comes up alongside of me and begins running her hand up and down my back.

"Do you think you should talk to Quinn?" she asks softly.

"I don't know. She's been so stressed out. I think we need to try to quash this without making a big deal of it. And if we can't, I will put Berry Quite Contrary in the ICU, where her two dads can cry dramatically and sing her songs until she comes out of the coma she has hopefully spent having a horrible nightmares about getting owned Lima Heights style."

I know I'm ranting some crazy shit, but when I see Britt try to stifle a laugh at my ridiculous threat, I can't help but laugh a little too. I need to get my shit together and come up with a plan, and I need to get Brittany to class before the bell rings.

_It's going to be okay._

* * *

"Sex is not dating."

_And Puck and I haven't slept together in weeks, but whatever._

"If it were, Santana and I would be dating."

_What the actual FUCK? _

My stomach does a literal flip as I hear Brittany announce to some of the biggest gossipmongers in the school that we've been sleeping together. My thoughts fly while my brain simultaneously disconnects from my mouth as I try to think of a clever way to play this off. My sharp tongue fails me in my moment of need and I settle on continuing the conversation as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened, hoping that Brittany's comment is written off like 90% of the crazy things she says are. I ramble out some made up logic for not blabbing about Quinn's baby daddy, focusing hard on pushing down the nausea that is still washing over me. I barely register the end of our little chat and look at Brittany coolly before shutting my phone.

_The hits just keep on coming…_

"So are you going to come over tonight?" her voice sounds light, but I can tell she's really asking if I'm mad at her. I can feel it in the way her eyes jump across my face.

I am taken aback by the question, and then a cold realization washes over me. _I've never actually told her that Quinn and I are…together?…dating?...whatever we are._

"I…can't…tonight. Sorry Britt," I say, looking away from her bright blue eyes. I can't believe I've managed to leave out something so crucial, but now is not the time to talk about this. My voice fades out in a pathetic apology.

"Oh. Okay," I hear from beside me.

"Let me walk you to class," I say, flashing a quick smile at my best friend as she steps in next to me.

I can tell she's trying to seem nonchalant, but she's clearly avoiding my eyes. Instinctively, I wrap my pinkie around hers and feel her squeeze my finger lightly before she stops walking and steps to the side of the hallway, breaking our link. I turn back toward her, giving her a quizzical look. Brittany sucks in a deep breath and glances into my eyes before looking down.

"I'm sorry, Santana," she breathes out, her voice wavering. "I didn't think. I mean, I thought, but I didn't think the right things. I was gonna just think it to myself and then I said it because I forgot that it matters to some people, that it matters to _you_, and I'm just so, _so_ sorry."

I look down to see her hands at her sides, her thumb rhythmically pressing her pointer and middle fingers. Her fingertips are turning white from the pressure. I recognize the nervous gesture instantly and feel my guilt wash over me. I reach out and squeeze one of her hands quickly. She finally looks up into my eyes again, and I feel my heart swell painfully with the love I feel for this beautiful girl.

"Britt…" I can't find the right words for her, but I need to. "Don't be sorry, I'm not mad at you," I finally say, and I can see the doubt written on her face. "We're fine, B. You're my best friend, okay?" I dip my head down to draw her eyes to mine and raise my eyebrows, willing her to accept my words.

I'm rewarded with an emphatic nod and a smile; I return her radiant smile and hold my pinkie up. I'm relieved when she doesn't hesitate to link our fingers once again.

* * *

**QUINN**

I see Britt and Santana walking down the hall with their pinkies linked. San looks like someone just kicked her in the gut, and Brittany looks completely abashed. Their expressions make me strangely uneasy. Santana sees me and her eyes immediately brighten. Something is off, but she gives me a half-smile that turns into a smug little smirk before she's completely past me, and I can't help the smile that pulls at the corners of my mouth.

I open my locker and dig for my books, but my mind is on the awkward expressions that Santana and Britt were just wearing. I'm surprised when I close my locker and find Rachel Berry standing right next to me.

She babbles on about Jewish baby diseases, and by the time she's done speaking I'm completely horrified. I've managed to be impregnated by basically the only Jewish guy I know, and now my perfect little bastard child might have some terrible genetic disease _aside_ of being related to Puck.

_Oh God._

I'm going to have to ask Puck if he could be a carrier, but I'm willing to bet he'll have no idea anyway. Maybe I should just ask Mr. L when I get home. He's a doctor of something. I need Santana; I need to talk to her about this.

I take a couple of deep, slow breaths to fight the rising panic. I need to get to class. I know I'll see Santana before Glee.

_It's going to be okay. Santana promised._

* * *

I grab Santana in the hall before Glee practice and pull her aside. We'd agreed to be cautious around each other today, but this is urgent. She must realize this, because she doesn't question it.

"ThereissomekindofcrazyJewishbabydiseaseorsomethingandIneedtogettestedtomakesuremybabydoesnthaveit," the words leave me in a terrified rush.

Santana's forehead scrunches up in confusion for just a second before her expression changes into a cautious, soothing one.

"Quinn, calm down. Say that again, slower. It's okay."

For some reason her tone infuriates me. I'm not a child and she's talking to me like a parent instead of...whatever she is to me. Not only that, she clearly doesn't understand that I'm panicking because that is the actual proper response to finding out your kid could have a debilitating genetic disease.

"Jesus fucking CHRIST, Santana. Try listening, maybe." Now I have her attention, as evidenced by the shocked 'O' her mouth forms and the fact that her eyebrows couldn't be any higher on her forehead. "There is some kind of genetic Jewish baby disease, and I need to get tested to see if my baby has it," I say each word slowly, like I'm talking to Finn.

Santana takes in my tone and her face hardens. She looks down as I enunciate each word, and I can see her take a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself. I expect her to snap back at me, but when she picks her head up she suddenly looks past me and her face goes from hurt to murderous. She leans out and speaks around me.

"Hey dwarf, if you want to live to see the Razzie Awards of your future, I suggest you grab your shit and get out of my line of sight in a motherfucking hurry, got it? No, don't give me your shocked 'who me?' look. Grab...your...FUCKING shit...and get...lost."

I don't turn around, but I hear the clipped sound of Rachel's awkward gate as she evidently stomps away. Santana refocuses her attention on me. It's my turn to look shocked, and I give her a wide eyed look that says, "what was that?"

"Okay, we'll talk to my dad when we're both home later and ask him about it. Who even told you about this disease?" She completely ignores my look AND my bitchy tone from before.

"Rachel did, why?"

A sly smile ghosts on Santana's mouth, and I can see something akin to fury flash in her unfocused eyes. I'm so completely confused by her demeanor today that I don't even know what to say.

"That little shit..." she says under her breath, then makes eye contact with me again. "Look, don't worry about it Q-ball, we'll take care of it, okay?"

I nod, smiling at the nickname. She hasn't called me that in months, and I'm certain she's brought it back just to make me smile. She gives me a half-smile in response and turns to walk away.

"Wait, San...I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I was just freaking out."

She gives me a full grin at that and shakes her head.

"Don't be an idiot, Fabray."

I watch her saunter away and have to look at the ceiling when I realize I'm staring at her ass.

* * *

**SANTANA**

We're goofing around in the choir room after school, and I feel the first moment of near relaxation I've had since we cornered the Gothic Oriental this morning. I'm actively trying not to look at Quinn, but every few minutes my eyes slide over to her. I know everyone in Glee must know she moved into my house by this point, but our transition from barely speaking to butt buddies would still raise more eyebrows than I'm willing to deal with right now. We have made a point of being _friendly_ but not _close_ all day. I even sat near Puck when we had Glee earlier. But after talking to Quinn this morning about that bullshit Rachel fed her, I know she needs me to actually be there for her. I can see she's worrying without me reassuring her that it's going to be okay.

After our little chat I did some research on Jewish genetic diseases instead of going to my 6th period class, and I'm pretty sure I know which one Rachel tried to convince Quinn her kid might have. As if I didn't have enough reason to hate on that self-obsessed hobbit, she just keeps giving me more ammunition. Tay-Sachs requires two carrier parents, and even then the kid only has a 25% chance of having the disease. So basically, Berry scared the shit out of Quinn just so she could play Nancy Drew and stick her gigantic facial appendage in other people's business. I'm hoping I scared her off before she realized what Quinn was talking to me about, but God knows that girl wouldn't have any problem ruining lives over a suspicion. When I get that selfish little freak alone I'm going to go ballistic.

_Fuck it._

I start towards Quinn, not caring what anyone thinks. I can't let her sit there in misery like that. I'm a step away when I see Quinn's eyes widen and a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye. By the time I've turned my head, Finn is punching Puck repeatedly. I see Berry slip in the door and stand, looking horrified, by Kurt.

_Oh fuck. OH FUCK._

I can hear Finn cursing at Puck in between wild punches, but I turn my attention to Quinn. I'm not sure what to do. Part of me wants to drag her out of here before Finn has a chance to ask, but the other part knows it won't change anything. In my moment of indecision, Quinn moves closer to the fight, and I can see she knows what this is about. Her face crumples into a grimace as the tears start to cascade down her cheeks.

Mr. Schue comes flying in to pull Finn off Puck, and I know I've lost my window of opportunity.

"TELL THE TRUTH!" Finn's voice is harsh. I don't exactly adore the guy, but in this moment I feel a wave of sadness and sympathy for him. Losing Quinn would devastate me, finding out she'd been lying to me about something this huge would actually destroy me.

Puck gives an idiotic response that has Finn screaming at him, and I foolishly hope they'll keep the argument between them without involving Quinn at all. Of course, I should have counted on my girl to open her big mouth and insert herself into the fray.

"Who told you this, Finn?" _Damn it, Q._

"Obviously it was Rachel," Kurt says, clearly pissed off.

"What? I didn't do anything." I want to punch her in the face.

"Yeah, it was Rachel, but I wanna hear it from you. I wanna hear it from both of you," Finn confirms my suspicions.

No, I don't want to punch her in the face—I'm _going _to punch her in the face. I feel the muscles in my body twitch as I get ready to knock Berry out with the full weight of my wrath behind my fist.

"NO! THEY'RE BOTH LYING TO ME!"

Finn's shout freezes me in place for a second. He's justifiably enraged, but his anger is directed at _my _Quinn, and I feel myself shift into protective mode.

"Is it true? Just tell me. Is it true?"

My heart aches at the look on Quinn's face. God, I want to stop this, but I know it won't matter. She steps forward and looks at Finn for a moment.

"Yes," she breathes out, "Puck is the father."

I see Puck nodding behind Quinn as she says it, and I actually want to tear _his_ head off. He's acting almost proud of himself, and it disgusts me.

"So a-all that stuff in the hot tub? You just made that up?"

If his stupidity wasn't so heartbreaking at the moment I'd roll my eyes. _Seriously, dude?_

"You were stupid enough to buy it!" Puck says to Finn, and I'm shocked at his audacity.

Finn looks murderously angry and goes to push past Quinn to go after Puck. Mr. Schue grabs him, but I find myself instinctively stepping forward to protect my pregnant best friend.

"I am so sorry." Quinn is crying harder now.

"Screw this. I'm DONE with you. I'm done with…I'm done with ALL of you!"

When Finn sticks his meaty finger in Q's face I take another tiny step forward involuntarily, but then he stalks off after kicking some random shit. I'm defensive of Quinn, but I realize that my anger is directed almost entirely at Puckerman for this shit show. And Rachel, of course. I just feel bad for Finn at this point.

Quinn whimpers as she turns and looks in my eyes for the briefest of seconds, then she's headed out the door like a bat out of hell.

I pause for just a second, feeling the urge to straight up drop Berry or Puck before I go after her.

"This is on you," I practically spit at Rachel. I make eye contact with Brittany and she immediately follows as I head off in search of the love of my life.

* * *

**QUINN**

My chest feels oddly constricted, and I know I'm on the verge of hyperventilating. I hurry myself down the hall, struggling to breathe. Eventually I turn into the nearest bathroom and slam a stall door shut behind me. I stand with my hands on the walls, caught between not wanting to be in this tiny space and not wanting to have my freak out in a public place. It's becoming harder and harder to breathe. I close my eyes and try to focus on the air in my lungs.

_In, out. Come on stupid, calm down. In, out._

I can just barely hear my sobs over the sound of my pounding heart in my ears and the wheezing sound that is terrifying me with each breath I attempt to take.

_CALM DOWN, LUCY! IN…OUT. YOU NEED TO BREATHE, __**NOW**__!_

"Quinn?" I hear from outside of my stall. "Quinn is that you?"

_Brittany._

I try to speak to her, but instead just make a ragged gasping sound that sends me into full blown panic mode.

"Shit, hang on Quinn!"

I hear the door prop open and then Brittany shouting.

"SANTANA, SHE'S IN HERE! HURRY UP, SHE'S FREAKING OUT!"

Every time I try to breathe in it feels like I'm losing air instead. I can no longer hear myself sobbing.

_Oh God, the baby._

I hear the distinct squeak of sneakers on the floor and then pounding on the stall door.

"Quinn, open up."

_Santana. _

I'm fumbling with the door lock with shaking hands. I can't seem to get it. _Come ON._

"Damn it. Quinn, back up. BACK UP!"

I fall backwards slightly when it flies open suddenly with a loud crash. I can see little dark spots in my already blurred vision, but through them I see an out-of-focus Santana take in my situation and reach out to grab my arm. She leads me out of the stall and leans me against a wall next to the sink.

"Okay baby, you're okay. We're going to breathe together, okay?"

Her voice is soothing, but I can hear the underlying strain. She's trying desperately to control her voice so she's doesn't scare me. I nod, trying to look at her face through my tears.

"Just listen to me. Here put your hands on my chest so you can feel me breathe," she gently places my hands for me and covers them with her own. "Okay now, through your nose, nice and slow. Breathe in with me."

My lungs are screaming at me, but I try very hard to listen to her instructions.

"Good girl, now with me again, breathe out. Nice and easy."

I don't want to breathe out what little air I have, but again I comply. I close my eyes.

"Same thing again, beautiful. You've got this. In through your nose."

I can feel Santana's chest rising, and her hands leave mine. I feel her gently wipe tears off of my face and then return her hands to mine.

"And now out, real slow," I feel her body turn slightly toward the door. "Brittany, come here."

I open my eyes at that, and see Santana turn her head away from me to whisper in Brittany's ear. She looks back at me and gives me a little smile as Brittany rushes out of the bathroom.

"You're doing great, baby. See? You breathed in on your own that time. Keep going now. Breathe out."

I don't feel like I'm doing great. I can feel the air in my lungs, kind of, but my vision is only getting blurrier, but not in a teary way. This revelation does not help the panic.

"Quinn," Santana says my name firmly. "Stay with me, honey, okay? Breathe with me now, in real slow."

I feel weak, and bend my legs to let myself sit down. Once I unlock my knees I fall suddenly, only saved from hitting the floor by Santana's strong arms hooking under my own. She lowers me until I'm sitting, then turns my body and lays me down flat. She picks each of my legs up and bends my knees before placing my feet flat on the ground to keep them like that. I feel her pull my shoes off, then she's back at my side on her knees. I feel a sudden, slight tug at the back of my neck.

"Come _on _Lucy Q, I need you to stay with me now."

I feel her lips press against the back of the hand she's holding for a long moment. My limbs feel oddly heavy. I open my eyes and look at Santana. She seems farther away than she should be. My hand is clasped in both of hers, a small gold cross on a chain is woven between her fingers, and she's pressing her forehead to our entwined hands. Her body is rocking slightly and her mouth is moving.I try to focus on what she's saying.

"…_Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. __**Amen**__. Oh God please help her, please." _

Santana's fervent whisper seems like a dream to me. I close my eyes again and feel her breath on my ear.

"_I love you, Quinn. Hang on. It's going to be okay, I promise you baby."_


	12. Must Come Down

**A/N: Couldn't help myself, but don't get too spoiled by all these updates! Eventually I'm going to need to sleep instead of writing. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

**SANTANA**

As I lower Quinn to the floor, I initially feel an almost clinical disconnection to what is happening in front of me. I'm treating her for shock, just like Dad taught me, and even make sure to tuck her pretty blue dress carefully so that she doesn't flash the EMTs whenever they decide to make themselves fucking useful and SHOW THE FUCK UP. She's still breathing, albeit erratically, and she has a pulse, so there isn't much else I can do at this point. My beautiful girl is struggling so hard, and her eyes won't seem to focus on mine anymore. My heart is breaking for her but I'm as calm as I can be, just trying to do whatever I can. It isn't until I see the gold chain splayed haphazardly across her neck that I feel like I'm going to lose my fucking shit. I know her cross is attached to it, and I reach out and yank it off her neck in one swift motion. I need her to be okay. I can't live if she isn't.

"Come _on_ Lucy Q, I need you to stay with me now." My voice isn't calm anymore. I'm losing the battle with the panic rising up inside of me.

I feel a tremendous urge to heave the cross in my hand across the bathroom and just start screaming. Instead, I kiss the back of her hand, then wrap the chain around my fingers and start praying the very first prayer that comes to mind. I don't think I've ever prayed for anything so hard in my life.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. _Amen_. Oh God please help her, please." I feel as though my whispered prayer falls on deaf ears, and despair washes over me.

Her eyes are slightly open, but I don't think she can even see me. When they close slowly, an unholy terror washes over me. I need her to know, if she can still hear me, that she's my everything.

"I love you Quinn. Hang on. It's going to be okay, I promise you baby."

I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince her or me. The promise feels empty, but I have to believe it.

Quinn's breathing pauses for a second, and I nearly jump out of my skin. Then I hear a full breath from her for the first time since this started, and I know she has just passed out. I can't help the tears that fall then, because she's breathing and it's going to be okay.

I hear the door swing open violently and look up to see Sue Sylvester, of all people, guiding EMTs into the bathroom. Sue is talking to me, but I'm too busy looking down at Quinn's chest rising and falling to care much about what she wants. When I feel her hands grip my upper arms and start to pull me up I shrug her off, causing me to fall back on my ass. I glare up at her, but am surprised to see something akin to kindness in her face.

"Let them help her, Santana."

It's like her words cut through the silence my own ears have imposed on me. I can hear her and the shallow breathing of the beautiful girl lying next to me, that's it. I look at her, bewildered, because it's weird to only hear one voice when there is so much other sound going on around me.

"Miss, can you tell us what happened?"

Another voice.

"Um yeah, she uh, she had a panic attack I think. She was having a difficult time controlling her breathing and she got more and more scared. I tried to slow her down, but she kept getting more panicked. She's, um, she's around 3 months pregnant."

All of the eyes in the room snap to me when I tell them she's pregnant and it stops me in my tracks. This is the first time I've thought about the baby through all of this. All I cared about was Quinn. I fucking suck so bad. _Oh God, the baby._

"What's her name?"

"She goes by Quinn…Quinn Fabray."

"How long ago did she pass out?" The same guy asks me.

"I don't know, maybe a couple minutes before you showed up. Not long."

Suddenly a stretcher is getting dragged into the room, so I reach out and grab Quinn's shoes, then stand up to make space, pressing myself against the wall.

"Do you know how she got on the floor? Did she fall?"

"No, I, uh, I lowered her down and then treated her for shock. She didn't hit her head or anything."

"You're sure about that?"

"I'm positive."

They still put the collar around her neck for some reason, but I don't argue. They slip a backboard under her as well and strap her down, then lift her in one smooth motion to the stretcher.

My body is beginning to shake, and I feel my teeth start to chatter. I cross my arms and grip myself tightly to try to control it.

"You said she goes by Quinn?"

"Yes."

"Is that her real name?"

I grit my teeth and think, "_is it medically relevant?"_

"It's her middle name.

"What's her first name?"

I look pointedly at Coach Sylvester in warning as I answer him.

"Lucy."

She gives the barest reaction, but wisely doesn't comment. I've never told anyone this before now.

"Do you know her age and birthday?"

"She's 15. Her birthday is January 11th, 1994."

I see his eyebrows rise, and I know he's making some internal comment about being pregnant at her age. I carefully contain the building rage in my body.

"Any allergies?"

"Cats."

The dude actually smiles at that.

"Any allergies to medicine?"

"Not that I know of."

"You've been really helpful Santana. Last question, would you happen to know her blood type?"

I hear a smile in his voice, and I can't tell if he actually wants to know or if he's just testing me or something.

"O negative."

He lets out a low whistle.

"You're a good friend kid; I didn't know my friends' blood types in high school."

I resent the use of the word "kid," and I feel a strong desire to tell him to go fuck himself. This isn't a time to be playing games. Quinn isn't my "_friend_," anyway. She's my whole fucking world.

"Yeah well, she's the universal donor. Completely opposed to me, AB positive, the universal receiver."

The guy kind of nods with a surprised look on his face and it only annoys me further. I turn my head and look at Coach instead. It's my turn to be surprised, because she's looking at me with something that looks like pride on her face. I look away quickly.

They've hooked those air tube thingies into her nose and put one of those pulse things on her fingertip. A little machine beeps steadily, and it's music to my ears. They start to wheel her out of the bathroom, and for the first time I see that some of the Glee kids and some Cheerios have gathered out there.

"Okay, we're going to take her to St. Charles Hospital-"

"Actually, can you take her to Lima General? Her emergency contact is my father. He's a doctor there."

"Sure we can do that."

"Can I go with her?"

"You can follow behind us, if you'd like."

"I don't have a car-"

"I'll take you," Sue says, and I look at her like she's grown another head.

"_Santana?" _

I hear her call out to me from the hallway, and I push past everyone to get to her side. They've taken off the strap that went across her arms and chest. I grab Quinn's hand and smile at her. She's looking at me awkwardly because of that stupid fucking neck brace. I'm shaking and I have tears falling down my face, so maybe it's for the best that she can't fully see me.

"Hey pretty lady, you have a nice nap?" I joke, trying to keep things light so she doesn't get scared again.

"Not really," she says with a smile, and my heart nearly explodes from relief and happiness. "Where are they taking me?"

"I told them to take you to Lima General. I'm gonna call my dad on the way and he'll meet us."

"The baby?"

"They're going to check you both out at the hospital. I'm sure she's fine," I reassure her, even though I have no idea.

"Okay. Are you coming with me?" She sounds so small and scared.

"I'm going to be right behind you," I tell her with a little smile.

She frowns at this news.

"Fine. Can you just make sure they don't call my parents?"

"I'll do my best, I already told them my dad is your emergency contact."

The tall ass EMT standing at Quinn's feet speaks up.

"We need to get going, girls."

I look back down at Quinn.

"I'll be right behind you. I love you."

"Love you too."

I give her a quick kiss on the back of her hand, and then she's off. I turn around to scan the crowd, but find Brittany standing right behind me.

"Let's go," she says to me without hesitation. She's holding my Cheerios bag and backpack. I want to throw my arms around her for knowing exactly what I need without being asked.

As we go to walk away I spot Finn and Puck standing on opposite sides of the hall. Rachel is beside Finn, and I lose any sense of give a fuck instantaneously. I'm still shaking, but now I'm not sure if it's from the adrenaline leaving or pure, unadulterated fury. Lima Heights Adjacent, engaged.

"All three of you fucking suck, you know that?"

I stick my finger in Puck's face. I notice for the first time that Quinn's chain is still wrapped tightly around my hand.

"You are a fucking disease, Noah Puckerman. You've fucked up her entire life and you think she wants to _be _with you? Go fuck yourself, seriously. I should be putting YOU in the hospital."

I wheel around and face Finn and Rachel. I point at them with Quinn's shoes, still in my other hand.

"And you, Rachel Berry, are the most selfish bitch I've ever met. I might be meaner than you, but I would _never_ have done what you did today. I hope you're happy. I'm sure Finn will just jump right into your pathetic little arms, now. Won't ya, Finn? Or maybe not, because you are clearly a fucking psycho."

Brittany grabs my hand and starts walking. I move with her, walking backwards so I can say one last thing.

"You all had better pray to everything holy on this earth that her baby is okay. Just fucking pray," I say as I squeeze my hand around Quinn's cross.

With that I turn and walk hurriedly with Brittany out the doors and break into a run for her car.

* * *

**QUINN**

By the time we get back to Santana's I am exhausted. Santana climbs out of the front seat and opens the back door of the car, kneeling down to look in on me. She carefully reaches around me and unfastens my seat belt, her eyes never leaving my face. She puts her hands out in a silent gesture for me to take them, and I oblige her. I'm carefully guided out of the car and to my feet. Santana studies my face for a second before giving me a mischievous little smile. She turns her back to me and looks over her shoulder, raising her eyebrows. I realize then what she wants and I can't help but smile back at her, even though I think I'm way too heavy for her to carry. I know she'll insist though, so I hop lightly onto her back and wrap my arms around her neck. I feel her arms wrap underneath my legs and she does a little hop to sit me up on her back a bit higher.

"Hey Ma, can you grab our bags?" She asks Mrs. L, who has walked back into the garage after carrying all of my paperwork inside.

Mrs. Lopez gives us a smile and says, "of course," before walking over and kissing us both on the cheek.

Santana does a little hop again, and then starts walking inside. When we're out of sight I plant a small kiss to the exposed skin just above the collar of her Cheerios uniform and smile at the little shiver that runs through her body. I rest my forehead against her back for a second, but look up when I feel her climbing the stairs. She's steady, leaning forward slightly to keep her balance, but you'd never think she's carrying someone with at least 20 lbs on her by the way she glides smoothly up the stairwell and to her room. She keeps her arm hooked under my leg, but angles herself so that she can turn the knob and walk us both in.

Santana turns her back to the bed and squats down until she feels my butt hit the bed, then releases my legs as I let go of her neck. She turns around and leans down to kiss my forehead.

"Stay," she commands, then turns and heads out the door.

I listen to her descend the stairs and then pull myself up to lean on the pillows. I sit and think about how lucky I am to have been brought into this family. They are amazing in general, but with everything that happened today, I don't know what I would have done without each of them.

Mr. Lopez, well I guess Dr. Lopez, even though he won't let me call him that, met me the moment I came into the emergency room and helped me understand all of the different tests they were doing. He'd given me a big smile when the baby's heartbeat came across loud and strong during the ultrasound they did. Mrs. Lopez came straight to the hospital from work and stayed by my side until they decided that the baby and I were both okay. Since I'm a minor and technically still in the custody of my parents, she'd dealt with having herself named my guardian in loco parentis. The Lopez's were granted temporary emergency guardianship to make all of my medical decisions. And Santana was, well, her typical, amazing self throughout the whole ordeal.

She and Britt refused to leave my side at all until Santana's dad finally insisted so that the nurses could get access to me, and even then they just moved back a few feet until everyone was done. When the curtain was finally closed, leaving the three of us alone for a moment, she hadn't even hesitated. She leapt forward and planted her lips on mine tenderly before whispering _I love you_ and going back to holding my hand. Brittany had given us both a broad smile at that and said _jeez, finally_. The two of them kept me laughing until Britt had to go, and I'd watched them hug goodbye fiercely without even the barest hint of jealousy. I have a renewed appreciation for what an amazing friend Britt really is after today.

My hands down favorite moment with Santana was the 3D ultrasound. Her dad had let her stay by my side for that one since they'd already done a regular ultrasound to check on the baby. Mr. L just did the 3D one because he claimed it was "so much cooler" (which was totally true). San was gripping the side of the bed and standing stiffly, looking rather nervous, until she heard that little heartbeat pumping. Her jaw dropped and her eyes watered instantly, and I couldn't help but beam up at her. When the 3D picture popped up I felt Santana sink down into the chair next to my bed and grab my hand. We both watched in awe as this tiny little baby was revealed, looking honestly much more human than I had expected. I couldn't stop staring at the little being on the screen, but had to laugh when I heard a quiet _wow_ come from beside me. When Mr. L finished up and carted the machine away, Santana had leaned forward and kissed my forehead before whispering _she's beautiful, Quinn. _Of course, I'd cried, and of course, she'd climbed onto my bed next to me and held me until I eventually stopped.

It's been a long night, and certainly far from ideal, but I'm so undeniably blessed that I can't bring myself to feel anything but grateful at this point. I really wish I'd been able to tell Finn everything on my terms, but I can't even be that mad at Rachel. I can't say the same for Santana, but I keep telling her to let it go. Finn needed to know and Rachel told him. She had no way of knowing I intended to do it myself. In any case, what's done is done.

"Okay, Lucy Q, I've made you some soup, which you _will _eat, and I've got some nice chamomile tea and a glass of water. But first, we need to get you changed into some comfy PJs."

Santana sets a tray on her desk and turns to me. I immediately smell bacon, of all things.

"What are you going to eat?" I ask curiously. Pretty sure it's something with bacon.

"Oh I had my mom run out and grab me a Baconator from Wendy's. Here you go."

She hands me some shorts and a tank top, then steps away to close the bedroom door. When she comes back, she immediately reaches out and starts undoing the braid in my hair. I can tell she's ignoring my pleading expression. She knows there's no way she can eat a delicious hamburger in front of me and make me eat _soup_, right?

"Q, you gotta sit up and help me or we're never gonna get you changed."

"But…bacon…" I know I sound pathetic. In fact, I'm counting on it.

"Honestly, Quinn. Do you really think I'd get myself Wendy's and bring you _soup_? You know me better than that. I got us _both_ Baconators, and fries, and of course a Frosty to dip our fries in."

Santana is giving me a teasing grin, and I swat her arm for being so cruel. I quickly pull the cardigan and dress I'm wearing off, and then reach behind me to unclasp my bra without a moment's hesitation. Santana literally jumps off the bed in shock and turns her back.

"QUINN!" she squeals at me.

"Sorry babe," I say playfully as I pull the tank and shorts on, "but I really want that bacon."

"You're awful, Lucy Quinn Fabray. Like, literally the worst. I'm not sure I even want to know you."

As she's talking she climbs onto the bed and straddles my legs, leaning down to give me a long, soft kiss.

"Mmmm…maybe, but….you're stuck…with me."

Santana interrupts my brilliant comeback with sexy, indulgent kisses to my jaw and neck.

As soon as I reach up to pull her closer to me, she sits up abruptly and smirks proudly.

"Let's eat, shall we?"

She has that damn eyebrow cocked and she looks sooo smug. It'd be annoying if it wasn't so sexy.

"I hate you."

"Uh huh."

She gets up to grab our dinners off the desktop and I'd admire the view as she bends down to pick up a stray French fry. I'd whistle if I wasn't so distracted.

Somehow this girl has managed to turn an absolutely awful evening into a night I'll remember fondly. _How is she even real?_

God, I have no idea how I managed to land Santana Lopez. I just know that I am desperately, irrevocably in love with her.


	13. Winning Isn't Everything, You Are

**A/N: So apparently I can't stop writing this story, no matter how little sleep I get. Thank you guys for the follows, favorites, and reviews. Each one definitely spurs me on to keep writing, and your feedback is much appreciated. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

**QUINN**

I'm lying in Santana's arms, listening to her soft snoring behind me. Her legs are entangled with mine, and she has her arm around my waist, her hand protectively covering my belly. I have an immediate feeling of déjà vu, this is almost exactly how I had woken up on Thursday morning after we went back to sleep.

_Thursday morning? No way._

It's amazing how much has changed for us since Wednesday. One moment we could barely speak to each other, and now here I am, wrapped in the arms of this beautiful creature, surrounded by her love and affection. It's so easy to see now how much this amazing love played a part in her seeming malice towards me during these past few months. Santana was _hurting_. She protected herself with callousness. And yet, some of the things I thought were her most vicious were evidently meant to help me. She sexted with Puck for the sole purpose of showing me what I was refusing to see, but didn't want me to know that she was protecting me. It makes me wonder what else she did secretly on my behalf. Now that the curiosity has struck me, I have half a mind to wake her up and ask. I won't, because I know she needs her sleep after yesterday, but this is definitely a conversation we need to have. One of _many_ conversations we need to have.

For now, I am content to just lie here with her, basking in the feeling of her skin against mine.

* * *

**SANTANA**

Quinn's hair is in my mouth. I bring my hand up and start trying to clear it out, but Quinn reacts to my hand moving and turns around, effectively solving my problem. She laughs at the look on my face, my tongue hanging out awkwardly.

"That's attractive," she snorts.

"Your hair was in my mouth, Chewbacca."

Quinn's mouth opens in horror at being called a Wookiee, and I'm moderately surprised she even gets the reference.

"Whatever, _you're_ the one who wants to sleep with _me_," she snarks.

"Oh please, you've been _begging _for it, Lucy Q," I shoot back at her.

"I don't deny that at all. Except _I'm_ begging for it from an extremely attractive Latina girl with a smart tongue and a smokin' bod," she answers, raising her eyebrow like the smartass she is.

I am turned on and more than a little impressed with her comeback game this morning, and I've got nothing good to answer her with. When in doubt, agree.

"Yeah you are," I tell her with a touch of cockiness, adding a little wink for good measure, "And for the record, Chewie, my tongue is good for a lot more than just vicious wordplay."

She lets out a single "HA!" and then closes the gap to give me a swift closed-mouth kiss.

"Shameless, Lopez. You are completely shameless."

I grin widely and hop up to my knees on the bed, singing loudly in a ridiculous Garth Brooks imitation:

_Well I'm SHAMELESS_

_When it comes to LOOOOOVING YOUUUUUU_

"Santana! Shhhh!" Quinn is blushing, wide eyed, trying to quiet me down. Of course, this only spurs me on further.

_I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT ME TOOOOO_

_I'LL DO ANYTHING AT ALLLLLL_

_AND I'M STAND-_hmphh

Quinn rises to her knees and grabs my face with both hands, capturing my mouth fully with hers and silencing my singing quickly. She's actually laughing into my mouth as she kisses me and it strikes me as the most adorable thing ever. I recover after a second and pull her closer to me, slowing down the kiss into a sensual, soft caress. When I break away, I tilt my forehead against hers and gently peck the tip of her nose.

"You don't like my singing, pretty lady?"

"You're awful. I don't know what would ever possess you to sing at all," she tells me, her head shaking back and forth against mine.

"Well then I guess we'd better quit Glee, huh?" I honestly love her sarcastic shit talk; she's such a teasingly mean bitch.

"We? No, sweetheart, _I_ don't suck. Just you."

"You wound me, Quinn Fabray."

"I'm sorry, baby. How can I make it better?"

She doesn't wait for me to answer, just dips her head to suck my bottom lip between hers, softly caressing it with her tongue and then letting it go with a soft pop.

"All better," I breathe out. This girl does things to me…

"Good," she says brightly, "because we need to get ready so we can catch the bus to sectionals."

"You're sure you want to go?" I ask. I'm willing to skip it and stay with her, but she seems determined.

"San, I'm fine. I am not missing this. I don't have Cheerios anymore, this is the only place I belong now."

God, sometimes I forget how much she's going through. She's a tough cookie, though. I know she's not complaining, and doesn't want me commiserating with her, so I don't make an issue of it.

"Okay, but I hope I don't cost us the competition with my terrible singing voice," I sigh in fake dejection.

"It'll be fine, your hotness makes up for it," she jokes cheekily and plants a wet peck on my cheek before jumping off the bed before I can grab her.

"You're gonna get it, Lucy Q!"

I hop down and chase after her, grabbing her from behind when she tries to escape. I wrap my arms around her and pick her up playfully, but carefully. I drop her back on the bed and tickle her furiously, giggling as she squirms and laughs.

"San!...Stop!...Please!...I was…just…teasing!" She begs in between squeals of laughter.

I still my hands and look at her in mock seriousness.

"So you don't think I'm the worst singer ever?"

"I mean, you're no _me_, but-"

She squeals again as I tickle her once more.

"Okay!...okay!" She finally relents. "You know you're amazing, Santana. I just can't let your head get any bigger," she tells me as if it's obvious.

"Uh huh, and don't you forget it, Fabray."

She rolls her eyes at me.

"Go take a shower, we need to hurry up and get going."

"As you wish, princess." I hop up and bow deeply as I respond.

I head for the bathroom, blowing her a kiss before I disappear inside the door.

* * *

**QUINN**

It is no small miracle that we've made it out the door on time. Santana and I are _very_ easily distracted by one another, and we had several false starts before we actually made it out of her room. I must've fixed my lipstick three or four times, and removed San's lipstick from my face, neck, hands, pretty much every inch of exposed skin on my body. Seriously, the girl is walking sex appeal. It's impossible to deny her.

Mrs. Lopez gives us both a hug on the way out and tells us to "kick some ass today." She waves to Britt, who's volunteered to drive us, as we run down the driveway, and I can see Brittany enthusiastically returning a wave of her own.

I get a huge smile from our bubbly blonde friend when I sit in the front seat, and she grabs my hand to give it a quick squeeze. As soon as we're closed into the car, the questions start.

"So when did all of _this _actually happen?" she asks, indicating between Santana and me.

"I mean, it's kind of always been happening, you know that Britt," Santana says evasively.

I look at Brittany and roll my eyes at Santana's non-answer, then follow it with a legitimate answer. She kept Santana together while I figured out my shit and, more than anyone, deserves to know everything.

"Wednesday night I kissed her. Thursday we stayed home and talked and figured some stuff out, and kissed some more, of course, and yesterday…well, yesterday I fell in love with her all over again."

"AWWWWW!" Brittany squeals elatedly. "I knew it, I've been telling Santana for _months. _She didn't believe me that you were totes in love with her, too. In _fact_, just Wednesday afternoon I told her that you two would figure out your equation. Honestly, I didn't think you'd get that math right for a while though," Britt huffs out a little sigh and adds, "I'm going to miss my sweet lady kisses, though."

I'm kind of speechless, trying to decipher everything Brittany just said. _Equation? Math? _I think I should be jealous of her comment about the lady kisses, but I'm strangely not bothered at all. She's basically surrendering Santana over to me as if she knows we're just right for each other.

"Equation?" I ask.

I peek back at Santana to get a read on her expression. She looks back at me with her head cocked, as if she's trying to read my reaction before she answers.

"Brittany explained to me that relationships are kind of like long division. While we were separated our equation didn't come out to a whole answer, so I had a remainder that completed my answer—Brittany. But, as she so brilliantly explained to me, _you_ are my answer. Now that we've figured out how our equation works, my answer is perfect, so I don't need a remainder anymore."

I look at Brittany, struck once again by her ability to see so much deeper than most people.

"That actually makes perfect sense," I say. "You're like a love genius, Britt. You figured us out so much sooner than we did. And…I just want to say thank you. You've been really cool about all of this, and you took such good care of San while I was busy being an idiot. You were definitely the link that kept this unholy trinity together until we figured out that equation."

Brittany's eyes light up and she looks at me quickly.

"Oh my GOD, Quinn that's brilliant!" I give her a questioning look, unsure what was so brilliant.

"THE UNHOLY TRINITY, we are the Unholy Trinity! That's really just too perfect!"

Santana laughs in the back and I turn to smile at her.

"I agree with Britt, I think that's possibly the most apt nickname of all time."

"It's decided then, we are the Unholy Trinity," I say with an emphatic nod.

I hear Santana's seatbelt click open and suddenly she's leaning forward between the seats, planting a kiss on Britt's cheek and then turning to fully kiss me.

"One more before I have to pretend like this isn't all I want to do for the rest of the day," she whispers after our lips separate.

I reach my right hand up and grip the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to mine for a passionate kiss that's slightly less than appropriate with a third party present.

"God you guys are going to need a lot of help hiding this. You're lucky you have me. But maybe you should both consider wearing sunglasses all the time from now on," Brittany says teasingly while San and I get lost in our kiss.

Santana's eyes pop open and she pulls back. Her eyes look cautious, as if she's waiting for an explosion. It takes me a second to realize she's waiting for an explosion from _me. _I shake my head and smile at her, then drop a quick peck on her lips.

"Put your seatbelt back on, love. Sitting like that is dangerous," I say in mock seriousness.

She falls back onto the backseat with an amused expression and I turn back around to realize we're already pulling into the student parking lot at McKinley. The three of us exchange an excited expression, we're all familiar with competition, and we're ready to go. We grab our bags and dresses, and head for the bus.

We bound up the bus stairs enthusiastically…into complete silence. I look at the Glee kids on the bus, and realize they look terrified. At first I figure they are just nervous for the competition, but then it dawns on me that Santana is the root of their fear, and I almost laugh out loud. If only these guys could see _scary_ Santana roll over and pull me closer to her, then plant a big kiss on my face _while she's still sleeping_. True story, she did that, and it was the cutest freaking thing I've ever seen. I slide into the first open seat and Santana follows. Britt takes the seat across from ours. I stand to face the other kids and realize that Finn isn't here, and I know in my heart he's not coming. I feel a wave of guilt wash over me for what I did to him. I nudge San in the ribs and she gives me a questioning look.

"We need to do something about this awkwardness," I whisper, leaning towards her.

"Why? It's not our fault," she responds.

"Um, yes it is San. I had a meltdown yesterday after Finn discovered that I lied to him about being the father of my child. He punched Puck in the face repeatedly, all because of what I did. They watched me get carted off in an ambulance and I'm pretty sure they're afraid you are going to beat all of them up for it."

She rolls her eyes, but I can see she is going to indulge me. She stands and moves into the aisle.

"New Directions! Hey, yo, eyes over here!"

My eyes widen in nervousness, Lord only knows what she'll say in her attempt to "ease" the awkwardness. All of the kids have their eyes trained on San's inexplicably beautiful face.

"So rumor has it that you guys are feeling a little uncomfortable because of yesterday's events, so let's clear the air, yes?" She sounds a little sarcastic and I hold my breath, but her tone evens out into a firm, steady one. "Mistakes were made, by a lot of different people, for a lot of different reasons. Now I know drama is kind of our thing…" she pauses to allow everyone to chuckle at her truism, "but I say today we just wipe the slate clean and take this competition on as a team. We can _win_ this thing, guys. We can win this thing and show everyone who doubts us that we are legit. So what do you say? Are we ready for this or what?"

There is a beat of silence, and then the New Directions respond, whooping and hollering. Even Puck and Rachel join the cheering and I feel lighter just listening to them all. Santana whips out some speakers from her backpack and turns up the music, and our teammates start singing along and dancing, shaking the bus with their enthusiasm. Miss Pillsbury looks super relieved that the bus is no longer silent.

I glance at my best friend. She's bobbing her head to the music and watching Britt dance in the aisle. It's like seeing her anew once again. She's an incredibly natural leader; it looks so effortless for her. I mean, I've seen her tear down just about everyone on this bus, but with just a few words she has them rallied behind her in the charge to win a competition as if this team didn't just experience a major upheaval the day before. Santana's charisma is undeniable, and I'm in absolute awe of her. _How did I not see this?_

When we finally turn around and sit down, I slide my hand between us and hold it open. San looks at me in surprise, and then weaves her fingers between mine.

"That was awesome, thank you for doing that," I tell her earnestly.

She shrugs and smiles at me.

"You know how I feel about losing."

I just give her hand a squeeze.

_We can't lose with you on our team. I can't lose with you by my side. I love you._

* * *

**SANTANA**

These motherfuckers are singing our songs. This is some bullshit of the highest order and I can't just let this mess go on without some type of response. I'm not afraid of these delinquent bitches. I just gotta pick the right target to make my point.

_Who's it gonna be?_

Wait, forget the juvie hoes. They didn't do this. It's gotta be their ghetto coach with the unconvincing weave. She gave them this set list.

_Game on._

I'm out of my chair as soon as their set ends. I guarantee I'll find this bitch in the bathroom, and it's the perfect place to, at the very _least_, tear this bitch a new one. I'm going to own her pathetic, cheating ass. I think of like 50 brilliant insults as I stalk up the aisle and yank the door of the auditorium open. I look around until I spot the bathroom. I feel the sneer spread across my lips when I spot my intended target walking in.

_You're so done._

I take two steps and feel a hand slide into mine, but it doesn't pull me back. I stop of my own accord and look to my right to see Brittany looking straight ahead. She shakes her head slightly, and I know what she's telling me. I squeeze her hand quickly in response. Again, she shakes her head. I squeeze once more, a little longer this time. Her chin drops, and I think I've won this argument, but then I see her head shake almost imperceptibly. I glare at her, but she doesn't look back at me. When a second hand slips into my empty one, I know I'm done. My heart aches, because I don't know how to fix this. I want to be let off the leash to tear that bitch up I don't know how else to help my team right now.

"Let's go to the Green Room," Quinn says firmly.

I close my eyes for a second and look down before nodding. We walk, hand in hand, to join our teammates. My mind is racing the entire time. We need to a solution, and we need one fast.

_Rachel. We need Rachel to live up to the hype, right now._

As soon as we cross the threshold I'm in "go" mode.

"Rachel, you're doing the solo. Sorry Mercedes, but right now we need to go next level. Berry, you're gonna lead us off, and you've got to go big. Pick your number one, go-to song and sing the shit out of it. Think you can do that?"

Rachel stiffens and nods intensely. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her typical dramatics. I still want to punch her in the face, so it's harder than usual. _Next order of business._

"Mike, Matt, you guys need to start text bombing Finn like there is no tomorrow. He needs to know what's going on here. I don't care what you have to say to him, but you need to get him to call my cell number. I know he won't answer if I just call him. Let me know when he starts responding."

"What if he doesn't?" Mike asks.

"He will. Just don't let up."

I catch Quinn's eye for a second and she mouths "so hot" and then grins at me. I can't help the smile that spreads across my face, but I do my damnedest to bite it back.

"Everyone else, gather in, nice and tight now. That's it, everyone get your asses in here."

I look from face to face in this small group. Part of me still can't believe I'm here, calling these weirdoes my teammates. I feel a swell of affection for them all, and I know now is the moment. We're going to _fucking_ WIN, so help me God. I feel a slow grin spread across my face, because I know exactly what I need to say.

"Santana, Finn is calling you right now!"

_Yes._ I accept the call.

"Finn, I'm sure you've got plenty you wanna say, but I need you to just listen right now. I'm putting you on speaker. Okay, listen up. We need a song, guys. We need a big song that we can throw down in defiance of the shitty hand we just got dealt. We need a song to let all our chips ride on. We need to be perfect. Now, don't get me wrong, being perfect is not about what the judges say today. It's not even about winning. Being perfect is about being able to look each other in the eye and know that we didn't let one another down because we told the truth. And that truth is that we did everything we could. There wasn't one more thing we could've done. So I'm asking you guys now, can we live in this moment as best we can, with clear eyes, and joy in our hearts? Because if we can do that, guys—then we're perfect. We need to find the song that represents us in this moment and we'll find our perfection. And Finn, we need you. We need you to step into the gap and be the guy who gets us the win. I hope we'll see you soon."

I end the call and look at my teammates for a moment. Their eyes are clear, they look ready to take this shit on. My phone beeps and I look down. It's a text from Finn, and it's perfect. I smile confidently and hold it up to the circle of faces surrounding me.

**FINN: U cant always get what u want. Rolling stones. Omw.**

"Let's get to work. Britt, the song is on my iPod. Turn that bad boy up and start working on some choreography with Mike and Matt. Mercedes, Kurt, Tina—you guys start thinking of ways we can arrange it to best highlight our talent. And Jacob, you need to leave Berry the fuck alone. I'm serious. Leave her alone. Don't even look at her." I catch Rachel's shocked expression, but ignore it.

Everyone breaks off to get to work, and Quinn sidles up next to me.

"How the hell did you come up with all that on the fly? Don't get me wrong, that was amazing, but…"

I smirk at her question and decide I love having Quinn to tell all of my truths.

"I didn't. A lot of it was from _Friday Night Lights._ You should know that, I made you watch it like ten times."

I suppress a laugh when I see Quinn's face, and put a finger up to my lips, raising my eyebrow.

"You're so bad," she says in a low voice.

"Uh huh, you'll find out just how _bad_ I can be soon."

* * *

**QUINN**

They announce our win and we go absolutely crazy. Everyone is jumping all over each other and hugging one another, and I can't think of a time when this team has felt more like _one_. Even Finn hugs me, and I am amazed to see Rachel and Santana embrace briefly. We ride a joyful high all the way to the bus, and we sing impromptu songs on the drive home. I feel like a normal teenager, and it is glorious.

I am completely captivated by Santana. Once Finn had arrived, she'd stepped back surreptitiously and allowed him to take the lead. She knew he needed it, and she didn't seem to care about taking the credit. I could see her moving behind the scenes, propping people up in the final moments, injecting self-confidence with her steady handed composure and absolute certainty. She believed, so they did too. When we arranged the song, she didn't fight for a lead or do anything but encourage the people who had them. The girl has an amazing voice, and she quietly took a background role. Every single thing she did today seemed almost pre-ordained to be exactly what this group needed. Well, save for her wanting to beat the crap out of the juvie show choir director. That would've been stupid. But other than that, Santana is easily the MVP of the day. She bridged the awkward silence when we got on the bus, and then brought the team back from the brink of disaster at the competition. I am utterly smitten.

When we arrive back at the school, I practically drag San off the bus and over to Brittany's car. We wave goodbye to our other teammates as Britt strolls up, giving me a knowing smirk and unlocking the doors.

"At least wait until we're out of the parking lot before you jump her bones," Britt orders me.

I turn a fairly bright shade of pink, because she's basically read my mind.

"There will be no jumping of any bones in the car," Santana answers Britt while looking at me.

I frown at her.

"Why not?" I'm nothing short of petulant.

"Because you and I need to have an important conversation first, and we need to have that conversation in private. No offense, Britt."

"Definitely none taken, Sanny," Britt responds brightly.

Now I frown at Britt.

"I don't think _one _kiss will ruin our conversation." I tell them both.

Santana snorts.

"When was the last time we managed to have just _one _kiss, Q?"

I'm silent. _Point, Santana._

"That's what I thought," she laughs from the backseat before leaning forward to whisper in my ear, "Don't worry, I'll make this conversation worth your while. Promise."

_HELL YES. FINALLY._


	14. Uncertainly Certain

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I didn't originally plan to cut it off here, but a) I'm exhausted and need to actually sleep, and b) I didn't want to shortchange the next part of the story by trying to cram it into this chapter. Feel free to send me hate mail for doing this to you guys two chapters in a row, I'll understand. Happy Friday!**

* * *

**SANTANA**

After a classic Lopez family celebratory meal (Taco Bell, we're kind of smart ass-y that way), I subtly plant the idea of going to a movie in my parents' minds. My dad has been working like crazy, and my mom's schedule rarely matches up with his, so we don't get much family time. They agree with surprising ease, and my game plan is in action. I've thought this little plan out pretty carefully, so I've already picked a movie to sell them on and a show time. Now it's time for step 2.

"Okay, well Quinn and I are going to go get ready," I say, standing from the table.

"We need to be heading out the door in 20 minutes, so don't linger," Dad says.

"Yup, we'll be back in a little bit."

Once we're in my room, Quinn gives me a peeved look and continues to the bathroom without a word. I'm taken aback, but don't immediately say anything. Instead, I follow her into the bathroom and wrap my arms around her waist from behind. She looks at me in the mirror, and then steps purposefully out of my embrace.

"Whoa, what's your problem?" I ask.

"You said we were going to talk. You said you'd "make it worth my while." And somehow, we're heading out to an 8:00pm movie. So I guess you just forgot about the supposedly important conversation we were going to have?"

I stifle a laugh, but my grin cannot be suppressed. Of course, this just irritates Quinn even more, so I quickly interject before she gets legitimately pissed.

"Lucy Q! Where is the trust? Honestly, it's like you don't even know me. I _thought_ we might want to actually be alone for a little bit tonight. It's all part of the plan to make that happen."

"Oh," Quinn says, looking apologetic. "So what's the plan?"

"You are going to go lie down on the bed, and I'm going to go downstairs to tell Mom and Dad you fell asleep, and that I'm going to stay with you, but they should go to the movie and spend some time together for once," I tell her proudly. I put a fair amount of thought into this.

"Nice, use the pregnant girl for your sneaky schemes," Quinn retorts jokingly. "You are so nefarious, Santana Lopez…I love it."

"Did you seriously just call me nefarious? Me?"

Quinn looks at me steadily and slowly raises her eyebrow with a slight tilt of her head.

"Okay, you_ might_ have a point. But I still can't believe you used the word _nefarious_ outside of an SAT study group, you nerd. And don't knock the plan, if it works, it works."

"Fine, I'm a nerd," she says with a "whatever" shrug of her shoulders as she walks over and kisses me on the lips gently. "But you knew exactly what it means, so you're a nerd too," she whispers before walking into the bedroom and hopping on the bed.

I turn and scowl at her, readying my response before she interrupts.

"Better hurry, hot stuff. I don't want to _actually_ fall asleep on you."

I don't bother responding, because I'm practically running out the door to break the news to my hopefully unsuspecting parents.

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana actually just ran out the door as if I could fall asleep right now. _Silly girl._

I can't really explain why I want this so badly. I mean, in some part of my brain I know that I should think this is wrong somehow, but nothing in my entire life has ever actually felt this right. I've spent my entire life trying to be the perfect little girl my daddy expected, and for what? Lucy became Quinn—no, Lucy became a _Fabray_, worthy of his love and affection, until I made one terrible mistake. All of that work, all of my misery, for _nothing_. My father, in all his good Christian morality, threw me and his unborn grandchild out on the street as if it were nothing. And then we have good old Judy, who, in all her submissive cowardice, just _let _him. I want to ask them if they think that's what Jesus would have done, but I also hope I never have to see them again. Being Russell Fabray's daughter has caused me nothing but sadness, and I'm so done with it.

But with Santana I've _always_ felt safe. She has _always_ loved me no matter what. That I had once been Lucy didn't even faze her. She's stood beside me, unwavering, from the very beginning. When I was scared to be the Cheerios co-captain, when I failed a test for the first time, when my father grounded me because I was watching MTV, when I finally came to her and told her I was pregnant with Noah Puckerman's baby—Santana was always there to listen, or empathize, or tell me to "stop being a little bitch."

I believe in God, and I believe in right and wrong, but I can't believe for a second that God would make something supposedly wrong feel so completely _right._ My only regret in any of this has been that I messed it up so badly at first and almost lost everything. I'm pretty sure that Santana is a gift to me, sent to be my beacon back to the shore when I can't find my way. So I don't question why I want her close to me, why I want to show her how much I love her, why I want to make her feel good. The "why" doesn't matter, in the end. Being with her is really all that matters.

* * *

**SANTANA**

My parents don't even question my story and head for the door. Mom turns to me after my dad has gone into the garage and holds her arms open. I roll my eyes and walk into her embrace, laughing when she squeezes me.

"Take good care of her, mija," she says followed by kiss to my temple.

She lets me go and I look at her, trying to read her meaning.

"Of course!" I respond as lightly as I can.

Mom looks as if she wants to say something else, but nods with a quick, tight smile and heads into the garage, closing the door behind her.

I realize that my heart is pounding. I don't want to hope that my mom already knows about me and Quinn, and is totally cool with it, because that's a dangerous thing to hope for. Quinn is pregnant and has had a very dramatic couple of days. Mom is probably just worried. _Paranoid, much?_

It's not hard to turn my attentions to the girl upstairs on my bed, and my face breaks into a smile. Before I know it I've bounded up the stairwell and burst through the door. Quinn is reclining against the pillows on my bed. She's got a notebook in her lap and she's writing furiously. After a second she looks up at me and gives me one of those megawatt smiles that just absolutely make my day.

"Hi, love. I was just writing you a quick note, but I'm done now. Ready to talk?"

"Definitely. I set the timer on my phone so we know when the movie is over and can get ourselves, um, situated appropriately," I tell her, realizing how awkward I sound and wincing.

Quinn smiles mildly.

"Good idea. So I was thinking…we could both use showers after dancing around like crazy today…"

"Q, the point of this is to talk _first_. And can I please have my note?"

My heart is fluttering erratically at the thought of being in a shower with Quinn. Literally one of the hottest fantasies I've ever had, and she's apparently all for it.

"The note is for after," she says, like it's no big deal. "And I know, I was just teasing you. Let's talk."

"You are a cruel, cruel bitch, Quinn Fabray. You're lucky I love you so," I tell her as I climb onto the bed next to her.

"The luckiest, actually," Quinn replies, placing a light kiss on my lips.

I smile at that, because I still can't believe that we're here together and she loves me too and I get to kiss her whenever I want. We sit and study each other for a long moment, not really sure where to start. Finally, I feel the courage wash over me and I just say what I'm thinking.

"I want us to be together, Quinn. Like, officially together. I know we can't tell anyone or anything, but I want to be yours, and I absolutely want you to be mine. But here's the thing, I don't want anything that happens from here on out to ruin our friendship. I think just being your friend would probably be the most difficult thing in the world, but I would do that to keep you in my life. I'm scared, Q. I believe in us and I want this, but I'm still afraid of what it could do to us. I'm going to need help being brave sometimes."

I look from her face to my hands for a second, then pick my eyes back up to hers.

"But what really matters is that I love you, Quinn. I've always loved you. I'll do whatever you ask of me."

Quinn presses a teary kiss to my lips as her hands cup my face.

"First of all, I love you too, Santana. I love you so much," she begins.

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana smiles at me, waiting for whatever else I have to say. I look into her deep brown eyes and I just know that there was never a choice for me besides her.

"After I kissed you on your birthday, I was so angry. Angry at you for making me love you," I pause and smile at her ruefully, "angry at the world, but mostly I was angry at me. I felt like a coward because I couldn't be with you and I wanted to be so badly. I hated myself, San, and it made it hard to care about anything I did. I'd made it impossible for you to even be my friend, and I knew I deserved everything you ever said to me."

"Quinn, I-"

"No, babe, please just let me explain everything. I promise I'll make it quick, and it ends on a happy note, so…" I give her a light kiss, "let me finish. Where was I? Oh right, I deserved what I got. So when I got pregnant, I felt like I deserved that too, in a sense. I only slept with Puck because I thought I'd feel closer to you anyway-"

Santana's eyes widen in surprise, and she opens her mouth to speak again.

"Wait! Will you just listen, please?" I cut her off.

"Do I get to ask questions at the end?" Santana asks, frustrated.

"You can ask me whatever you want," I promise her.

"Fine, continue."

"Why thank you. So I got pregnant and I was scared, and I felt like I was just reaping all of the bad karma I'd accrued. I wanted to talk to you so badly, but I was afraid to tell you everything I'm telling you now, and I was afraid of letting myself feel exactly how I feel now. And you know what? I was right to be afraid, because this is absolutely terrifying, but the best decision I ever made was to be brave enough to come here and talk to you, and to kiss you that first night. And the craziest thing is that I don't know if I would have been able to do that if I hadn't gotten pregnant and kicked out of my house, because I would have been trying so hard to make myself fit what my parents wanted for me. So getting pregnant, losing everything, it's been the best thing that could have happened to me, because not one single day has passed since July 10th that I haven't thought about how it felt to kiss you. And not one single day has passed that I haven't wanted to kiss you again. I've belonged to you since that day, if only in my heart. So yes, Santana, God, yes…I want to be yours and yours alone, and I want you all to myself," I tell her sincerely before adding with a smile, "And now you may ask your questions."

Santana shakes her head and just leans in to kiss me. It's a full, passionate kiss and I am filled up with joy.

* * *

Kissing Santana is like a little slice of heaven. She has these full, pouty lips that are so soft and gentle, and she knows how to use them perfectly. Once she's entranced me with the slow, sensual movement of those lips on mine, she always seems to know the perfect moment to slide her tongue out and run it along the seam of my lips, or slip it out to pull one of my lips between hers, or glide it against my own tongue in a caress that sends flames throughout my entire body. Every moment that our mouths are in contact feels like another step towards finding everything I never knew I was looking for.

If she was just good with her mouth Santana would be a gifted kisser, but that is just the main focus of her skills. While she's entangling her mouth with mine, she somehow manages to place her hands perfectly even though so far she has been carefully restrained from escalating our contact beyond an epic make out session. She cups my face lovingly, runs her fingertips along my neck, down my back, up my arms. She brushes my hair back behind my ear in a gesture that is so adoring I can barely handle it. She shows her love with every soft caress of her hands, every time she wraps her arms around my body and encases me in her protective grasp. I've never felt as safe as I do in her arms.

Somehow, she manages to outdo herself even further with the simple power of her eyes. Santana looks at me as if the world starts and stops in my eyes. She studies me carefully, and I'm sure if someone quizzed her she could draw my face from memory. Her eyes glide easily from lighthearted, almost laughing, to intense and attentive. Santana's deep brown irises occasionally catch the light just right, turning them a deep russet. No matter the color, looking into her eyes leaves me breathless.

"Tana," I whisper between kisses.

"Yes, beautiful?" she whispers back, covering me in goosebumps yet again.

"I want…"

Santana doesn't stop, but slows her movements briefly before placing a chaste kiss to my lips and pulling back.

"I want more, too, Quinn." Santana looks hesitant, and my stomach drops. "But I don't want to rush things. I want you to be sure. I want to…court you." Her shyness is so damn cute.

"You've already courted me, San. You've been courting me for over a year, even if we didn't realize it."

Santana looks dubious. She's looking pointedly away from me, and I can tell she's trying to decide if she should say something. I wait patiently for once, not wanting to push her.

"I know how Puck treated you," she finally says, so softly I have to lean slightly forward. "I want everything between us to show you how incredible and special you are. I want you to choose me every single time we're together. I want you to feel nothing but love in every single touch we share."

I close my eyes and revel in having Santana say these words to me. I still can't even believe this is happening.

"I'm choosing you right now. I want to show you how much I love you; I want to feel you everywhere. God, I don't even know what I'm doing, all I know is that I want more with you. Besides, you promised you'd make the talking worth my while, remember?"

Santana's eyes are burning into mine. She is stock still, until she nods once and closes the gap to kiss me gently.

"Okay," she breathes against my lips, and my heart soars.


	15. You Are My Heaven

**A/N: So this is easily the hardest chapter I've written. I hope you all like it, but feel free to let me know if you don't. And just a heads up, this'll probably be the last update for a few days. Happy Saint Paddy's Weekend!**

* * *

**SANTANA**

I've never been so nervous in my life. It's a weird nervous, because I know that whatever happens next will be the best thing I've ever experienced, but that is inexplicably nerve wracking for some reason. I'm acutely aware that my entire body is trembling in anxious anticipation.

I run my shaky hands down Quinn's slender arms and watch her link her hands with mine. It is an incredibly moving moment for me, and I pick our interlocked hands up to press my lips to the backs of each of hers. She smiles at me warmly and leans forward to press a cautious kiss to my lips.

"Wait here," I whisper, then get up to turn the light out.

I put my iPod on the dock and select a playlist I may or may not have put together with this scenario in mind. I turn the volume low and hit shuffle. When I climb back on to the bed, I grab the remote to my TV and turn it on, then hit mute. It casts a flickering light on us, just enough to be able to see each other somewhat clearly.

I turn my attention back to Quinn, and her face breaks into a wide smile.

"What?" I ask.

"I don't know, I've got the nervous giggles I think. We're so serious about this, look at my hands, I'm shaking!" Quinn answers with a short laugh.

"God, me too! I'm legitimately nervous."

"We need to lighten up a little I think."

"Well why don't you tell me a joke?" I offer up.

Quinn laughs at the suggestion, and the mood is already lighter.

"Orrrrr…I can tell you all of the things I find incredibly sexy about you."

"Please Quinn, we don't have all night," I retort.

This earns me an even harder laugh, which in turn makes me smile.

"You're impossible." Quinn says, tossing her hands up.

I surprise her by closing the gap between us suddenly. I capture her lips with mine; carefully working my lips against hers as I slowly reach down to grab the hem of her shirt. I briefly separate our mouths to pull it up over her head. Quinn obediently raises her hands over her head to help out, and I toss her shirt on the floor. I kiss her for another second, then reach down to pull my own shirt off and drop it to the floor as well.

When I close the gap between us this time, I gently push Quinn onto her back and lay my torso on hers to continue kissing her. She slips her hands around my back and I can feel her fingertips running along my spine. Her light touch sends a shiver through my whole body, and I nip at her lip in response. I get a megawatt smile when I pull back and look at her for a second. I grin in response; Quinn's perfect smile is too infectious not to smile back.

I tuck her hair behind her ear, and then move my lips to her neck. I press my lips to her soft skin once, twice, and then I slide my tongue out to run it along the bottom of her jaw between the kisses I place there. Quinn's deep sigh and her hands buried in my hair tell me I'm doing something right, so I start moving lower and lower. I alternate between kisses, sucking gently, and careful nibbles that cause her to tighten her grip on my hair. When I reach her collarbone I bite down a little harder, causing Quinn to buck up slightly, and then I run just the tip of my tongue over the slightly reddened skin. I hear a deep sigh from the beautiful girl below me.

It seems a shame to stop there, so I continue my trail of wet kisses down her sternum, straying every now and then for an occasional gentle bite on the smooth, fleshy curves of her breasts, until I reach her bra. I lean back and bring my hand up, running my fingertips along the edge of her bra, tracing her soft skin. I look up to her face and give a questioning look, asking permission.

Quinn lets out a shaky breath and then leans towards me so that I can reach around and undo the clasp. I'm successful on my second attempt, and I smile triumphantly at her as she lies back down. I slide the fingertips of my left hand down each of her shoulders, sliding the straps down, and Quinn reaches up to shyly remove the bra completely. I immediately rest my body on hers once again and kiss her lips in an attempt to ease her nerves before I return my attention to the newly exposed flesh.

I feel an almost childlike giddiness. I've imagined Quinn naked beneath me so many times, but nothing I've pictured has ever come close to the beauty of this moment with her. I run my palm lightly down her chest and over one perfectly round breast. I feel her breath jump, and I want to cause that as many times as possible. I let my thumb skim over her perfect pink nipple, and am rewarded with a low _God_ falling from her lips.

She's somehow managing to be sexy and innocent at the same time, and I can feel the urgency growing between us. As soon as I bring my mouth down to cover her other nipple, Quinn reaches out with one hand and pops my bra clasp loose with incredible ease. My bra hangs loosely in front of me, and I slide it off without removing my lips from the hardened peak of Quinn's breast. I alternate between sucking lightly and flicking my tongue against it, and the blonde beneath me squirms adorably. When I finally release her nipple with a light grazing of my teeth, Quinn pulls me up to kiss her. I am braced over her, and my chest skims against hers as our kiss grows deeper.

* * *

**QUINN**

Nothing I could have imagined would come close to my reality right now. I've never in my entire life felt loved and cared for like this. Santana is so tender I could cry, and I want to show her this kind of love in return. I lean up into a passionate kiss, pressing Santana back so that we're on more equal ground, then shift myself so that I'm hovering over her. My breath is stolen when she smiles up at me.

A lower myself to gently kiss her full lips before slipping my tongue between them and running it along hers. I'm surprised when Santana doesn't try to spar with me for control of the kiss, instead letting me dictate the pace and depth, caressing her tongue with mine. She is pliant and accepting, and I can feel the trust that lies behind her submission. More than anything, this runs to the heart of me. Santana is not one to expose weakness or give someone power over her, and yet here she is, open and bare beneath me. She is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I press soft kisses down the column of her throat, running my fingertips along the side of her body gently. Santana shudders and sighs, her hand buried in my hair. I make my way down to worship her supple, soft breasts. I smile against her skin when I think that mine will actually be bigger than hers soon, if only temporarily. I know it'll be something we tease one another about, because that's just our style.

I trail a wet path down her stomach, kissing and licking her defined ab muscles reverently. When I reach the top of her pants I pick my mouth up and move it back to her small dark nipple. I nip at it gently, then pull it between my lips and run my tongue over it. I reach my hand down to the button of her jeans, and I hear a light groan slip out of Santana's sexy mouth. I undo the button at the same time that I release her nipple with a soft pop of my lips. My exquisite girlfriend looks stunned as I bring my mouth to hers once more as I slide her zipper down. _My girlfriend_. She overwhelms me.

* * *

**SANTANA**

Quinn has my zipper down before I can even register her movements and it suddenly occurs to me that Quinn is about to _top_ me. Baby lesbian I may be, but I know that I definitely won't let this happen without at least the pretense of a fight.

Quinn is looking down at her hand pushing at the top of my jeans, and I use her distraction to pop easily up onto my side, facing her. Her surprised eyes come up to my face, and I give her a little head shake.

"Sorry pretty lady, but I'm gonna need to go ahead and take the lead now," I tell her in a low voice.

"What?!" Quinn asks in a loud whisper. She legitimately seems confused. I'm a baby lesbian, sure, but she's an infant lesbian. It's cute.

"Do you trust me?"

Quinn looks dubious, but nods anyway.

"Of course."

I keep my eyes on her face while I move my hand down her little baby bump to the top of her yoga pants. I halt my movements for a second and thank the high heavens that yoga pants even exist, then hook my finger in the top of them. I run my finger along the top band of her pants for a moment, still watching her face. I can tell that her breathing has become shallow, and when the light flashes across her face for a second, it is clear that her pupils are dilated.

I push myself up onto my knees and guide Quinn back into a lying position once again. I grab a hold of her pants with both hands this time, and she lifts her butt to aid me in their swift removal. She looks nervous again, so I slip off the bed and pull my jeans and thong off. Quinn is propped up on her elbows, looking at me, and I stand still for just a second before I grab her left foot and place a kiss just above her ankle. She smiles at me, and as I climb back up onto the bed I place quick, gentle kisses along her leg. I stop well short of where I most want to be and instead jump my kisses up to her jaw and neck, my fingertips ghosting lightly on her thigh, just above her knee.

Quinn reaches down to pull her own underwear off, pulling her legs in to slide them all the way off and add them to the growing pile of discarded clothes. My hand returns to rest on her thigh, and she's looking me straight in the eye. She brings a hand up to cup my cheek, and I turn my face to press a kiss to her palm.

"I love you," she whispers.

"Love you more, beautiful."

I kiss her deeply and pull her close to me, so that we're both on our side. My left hand is running up and down her back, and her right reaches out to tuck my hair behind my ear then trace my collarbone with one finger. I bring my hand down her back and continue to let it slide down, over her perfect little ass, to grab the back of her right thigh. I pull her leg up so that her knee rests on my hip. I let my fingertips run along the top of her thigh, letting it pass closer towards her inner thigh with every stroke.

When Quinn relaxes into my touch and shifts slightly to open herself up to me, I know she's ready. I can hear my own pounding heart mixed with her shallow breathing, and I feel overwhelmed in all of the best ways. I finally let my fingers graze over the outside of her center and watch Quinn's face as her eyes snap shut and she inhales a sharp breath. I continue my slow movements, letting her get used to the feeling before advancing any further.

When she opens her eyes to look at me, I slide a finger through her wet folds, brushing lightly against her clit. This is a first for both of us, and we both react to the touch audibly, my gasp mixing with the hushed _oh shit _that falls from her lips. Her eyes widen for an instant, and then she presses herself closer to me. Her right hand squeezes my shoulder tightly.

"Are you okay?" I ask her softly.

"Oh my God, yes. Definitely yes," she replies breathily.

I start a gentle rhythm, working my fingers in loose circles around her sensitive nub. I build her up slowly, keeping my gaze on her face as she reacts to my touch. When Quinn bites down on her bottom lip and closes her eyes, I tighten the circle around her clit. She presses slightly on my shoulder and I slow my movements, waiting for an indication of what she wants. Quinn opens her eyes and releases her lip.

"I want you inside me, San."

Her words come out in a husky whisper and a jolt of arousal shoots through me.

"Are you sure, baby?" I'm nervous, I don't want to hurt her at all—she's only ever had sex once.

"Yes. _Please_," she replies certainly.

"Okay, but stop me if I hurt you or something."

"Stop worrying and _fuck me_."

I just about lose myself at Quinn's sexy insistence. She's so fucking hot. Far be it for me to deny her what she wants, so I dip my fingers lower to her entrance and gather some of the wetness I find there. Quinn lets out a sexy little whimper, and I feel a smirk on my face as I tease her. I slip a single finger just inside and immediately remove it, earning a gasp and a groan in quick succession. Quinn's eyes are screwed tightly shut and her mouth is hanging slightly open.

"Look at me, Quinn."

She slowly opens her eyes to look into mine, and I gently slide my finger inside of her.

* * *

**QUINN**

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. OH MY GOD._

Santana is slowly dragging her finger in and out of me, her eyes on me as she does it. I can see a smug smirk spreading on her face, and I know she's enjoying this as much as I am.

"Faster, babe."

_Ohhhh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Santana responds immediately to my demand. She's still moving relatively gently, but she's picked up the speed. It feels amazing.

"Oh." I can't believe the sounds that are coming out of my mouth, but I'm powerless to stop it.

San goes a little faster.

"Baby, yes."

"God Quinn you're so fucking tight. You feel _amazing_."

My stomach clenches down at that, and I know I'm close to something incredible. Santana shifts slightly and the angle of her hand changes.

"Fucking CHRIST, Santana, right there, mmmmbabypleasedontstop."

* * *

**SANTANA**

Quinn is an absolute vision beside me, and I can't tear my eyes away. I've never heard her use so many swear words, and when she begs me not to stop I think I might come just listening to her. Everything about her is fucking sexy as hell. I lean my mouth to her ear and nibble on her earlobe.

"Come on baby, let go. Come for me, Q"

I press my thumb to her clit as I continue working inside of her, and Quinn arches her body against mine in reaction. In just a few moments I watch this gorgeous girl come undone. Her hand squeezes my shoulder tightly as her eyes squeeze shut and her mouth drops open.

"OH GOD," she chokes out as she peaks.

I slow down my movements as I bring her down from her orgasm and start to remove my hand when the tremors inside her cease, but Quinn grabs my wrist to stop me.

"Just wait one second," she breathes out.

I press kisses all over her face before pressing my lips to hers in a lazy kiss. She releases my wrist and I slowly remove my hand. Quinn sighs deeply and tilts her forehead against mine.

"That was…I don't even know what that was. Too good. Perfection, really."

"Glad to be of service," I say flippantly.

"I love you, Santana. Thank you." Quinn is whispering, but I hear the shakiness in her voice and freeze.

"Are you crying, baby? Did I hurt you?"

"No! No, love, it's not that. It's just…that was exactly how a first time should be. It was so beautiful. _You _are so beautiful," she answers, stronger this time.

"You're beautiful-er," I tell her with a smile. "And I agree, that was the most beautiful experience of my entire life…I can't wait to do it again."

Quinn gives me a little laugh and rolls her eyes at me.

"Well that's going to have to wait, I'm afraid."

"And why's that?"

I see a playful little smile on her lips and in an instant she closes the gap between us, pressing me onto my back and kissing me hard. When she pulls away to look in my eyes for a moment, she is wearing a sexy smirk and looking a little devious. Quinn brings her hot little mouth down to mine and whispers against my lips.

"Your turn."


	16. I Can't Find A Better Love

**SANTANA**

Quinn and I are in the shower, and she is gently running her fingers through my hair as the water rinses out the conditioner. It feels like heaven, albeit a different kind of heaven than the one I just experienced with her a little bit ago. I open one eye slightly to peek at her face. I love watching Quinn when she's unaware of my attention and completely natural. She's absorbed in her task, eyes focused, and she's chewing at her bottom lip with her teeth.

I can often read Quinn just from looking at her lips. She has at least 10 different smiles, 4 or 5 different smirks, and a bunch of different reasons for either chewing or biting her lips. When her lips are pursed tightly and she's gnawing at them she's usually worrying about something. If she's gently nibbling at the middle of her lip, she's doing it out of absentminded habit or she's concentrating on something. A raised eyebrow, a smirk, and slight bite at her lip is pure, and very effective, seduction. Right now she's biting at it without thought and I find her so incredibly cute.

I reach my hand up and gently run my thumb over her lip and then lean forward to kiss her. I can feel the sweet little smile on her mouth and I can't help but return it. Our soft smile-kisses are the epitome of simple, happy love. Quinn kisses me one last time and then guides me back under the water with her hands on my hips.

Quinn finishes rinsing my hair and reaches around me to turn off the water. She wraps me a towel and kisses my cheek before grabbing a towel for herself. As soon as we step out of the shower the timer on my phone goes off, indicating the end of my parents' movie. They'll be headed home now. Quinn and I look each other wistfully for a moment, but quickly move on to getting ready for bed.

Before long we're lying on our sides, looking into each other's eyes and waiting for the telltale sound of the garage door opening below us. Quinn's face is smooth and calm, her eyes clear and happy. I would give anything to see her look like this all the time.

"You're so beautiful, Quinn. Like, truly, incredibly, _epically_ beautiful."

Quinn smiles and blushes, and I can tell she wants to make a joke rather than accept the compliment.

"Wait, before you try to brush off my very genuine and true compliment, I want you to just listen to me. You are _beautiful_. Not just because you have stunning eyes, or a cute nose, or a spectacular smile. Not just because I love your cute little ears or the soft skin of your neck. Each little detail of you is beautiful, for sure. But it's the sum of the parts, Q. It's the _you_ of you that is so stunning I have no choice but to love you. It's because you're smart, you're brave, you're incredibly loving. It's because you're both gentle and tough, because you _know_ me and you still stand by my side. Lots of girls are pretty...but, you…YOU are beautiful, Lucy, inside and out, through and through. I love you because there are a thousand reasons _to_ love you, and they all add up to the perfection that is you."

"San…"

Quinn looks completely overwhelmed, so I lean in and give her a kiss. She quickly scooches closer to me and tucks herself into my arms. I reach behind me and turn the bedside lamp off and we lie in comfortable silence for a moment.

"Thank you, Santana. Not just for what you said. For everything. For forgiving me, for taking me in, for taking care of me, for tonight. You've been so amazing when I had no reason to expect anything from you. So thank you, baby. I love you."

"I love you too, pretty lady," I kiss her forehead and then whisper, "Good night."

"Good night, love."

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana and I have spent all of Sunday doing homework and hanging out in our pajamas. The last few days have been such a whirlwind, it was nice to just do things somewhat normal. Today has been the first day in years that I felt like I actually had a real family. Mr. and Mrs. L came in and out of the kitchen while we did our homework at the table. Occasionally we'd take a break from working and chat with them or have a snack. We've gotten a reprieve from church because, according to Mrs. Lopez, we've "been through the ringer, and God understands the importance of taking a breather after a shit week like that." It's so effortless in this house, which is really quite wonderful. Right now we're sitting around the table after an amazing dinner, just talking and laughing.

I can't help but sit back and observe the little Lopez family, even though it makes me feel a twinge of sad regret that my family has fallen apart. I know in my heart that my parents would look down on Maribel and Miguel for having come from the poor side of town, even though they'd worked hard to be successful and now live in one of the nicer neighborhoods in Lima. Santana claims she's from Lima Heights Adjacent because, quite literally, she is. She was actually born in Lima General, where her father works now, which is in Lima Heights just a few blocks from where she lived as a kid. She was raised in the absolute worst part of the Heights because her parents were broke kids from there. They scrapped together money and scholarships to get through college, and Santana was often left with her grandmother, who wasn't necessarily the doting type. San explained to me that her abuela refused to speak English to her, but her parents refused to speak to Spanish to her, so she grew up with two words for just about everything and often mixed languages once she spoke in full sentences. Santana wears her upbringing like a badge of honor for the most part, but there are many things she's kept carefully guarded. She told me a lot of it over our year of best friendship, but I'm still learning little details she's never shared. For example, Mrs. L is the one who told me San was conceived when her parents were just teenagers, and that they were so poor that she had worn secondhand clothes for most of her childhood. Santana doesn't look fazed when I'm told new details about her life, but every now and then she'll shake her head and her cheeks will redden ever so slightly, like right now.

"The first time she brought you home, Quinn, I was legitimately shocked. I don't think Santana had ever just hung out with girls her whole life. She was always in the mud playing with the boys, which just drove most of them crazy because she was so much better than them at everything. I couldn't believe it when she said she was trying out for cheerleading of all things. I was pretty convinced she'd be on the actual football team."

"Mom! You did **not** think I'd play football. Stop exaggerating. Soccer, maybe, but not football."

"Why not, mija? You're a great athlete, I'm pretty sure you could have made the team. I used to love to sit at her various games whenever I could because the parents of the other kids would all be whispering about how good she was. Santana was probably the most grown up, self-sufficient 6 year old in the world, and it only got worse from there. She would get on the field and be a little general, directing her teammates, and eventually even her coaches," Mrs. L explains proudly.

"That's only because-"

"You HATE losing. We know, we know!" Mr. Lopez interrupts his only daughter with a smile on his face. "You get that from your mother, Santanita," he adds with a wink for his wife.

"Oh _please_, Miguel. This one is probably worse than Santana," Mrs. L tells me, gesturing to her husband. "He was a really good soccer player in high school, he even got offered a scholarship to play at an Ivy out East. What school was it, honey?"

"Princeton. But I'm glad I didn't go, who wants to live in New Jersey? Not me, prefiero quedarme aquí, thank you very much."

"Anyway, he's so competitive he had a fit when he finished _second_ in med school."

"Mom, deja de bragging!" Santana chimes in, with an exaggerated look of annoyance.

For my part, I just keep laughing. They talk so fast and tease each other with the ease of people who actually _know_ each other. My dinners at home were generally silent, and we certainly didn't sit around and talk after the meal was over.

"Oh relax, my little Holy Devil child. Quinn knows I'm only joking, right Quinn?"

"Of course, Mrs. L!" I reply with gusto.

Santana gives me a joking glare and huffs at me.

"I see where your loyalties lie, Fabray. Noted."

"You've chosen wisely, Quinn, don't let her intimidate you," Mr. L says with a grin.

"Whaaaaateverrrrr," Santana calls out as she walks into the kitchen with all four of our plates.

I laugh at her dramatics and her parents smile, too. It's so clear how much they adore her and vice versa. I start to get up to go help her with the dishes, but Mrs. L stops me.

"Listen, Quinn, I know we talked about this at the hospital on Friday, but I wanted to make sure you were still okay with us petitioning the court to name us your legal guardians. It's entirely up to you if you'd like for us to proceed with this or not."

I don't even hesitate.

"If you are willing to do it, then I'm more than okay with it. My parents have abandoned me," I say with a shrug of my shoulders, "If you think this is for the best, then I trust your judgment."

"I do, sweetheart. If we're your legal guardians we can get you insured under our healthcare plans, and have us filed as your contacts at the school, and have you on our auto insurance and all sorts of other things that I'm sure we haven't thought of yet," Mrs. Lopez tells me while Mr. L nods next to her.

I didn't think of any of these things, so I'm not sure what to think now.

"I mean, I don't want to be a financial burden or anything," I finally say, feeling somewhat awkward.

My new surrogate parents smile at that and shake their heads in tandem.

"Don't be silly, Quinn. We wouldn't have offered to take you in if were weren't willing to take on the cost of having another teenaged girl around. Before you and Santana even made amends we were considering offering our home to you, so once you guys fixed whatever issue came between you, it made the decision very easy. You will not be a burden, nor will we treat you like any less of a daughter than we treat Santana. I mean, at least we actually _like _you, we just barely tolerate her," Mr. L tells me, a smile twitching at his lips as he finishes.

"I heard that!" Santana calls out from the kitchen.

I can't help the laugh that falls from my mouth, but I don't even hesitate to throw some sass her way.

"Don't be jealous!" I yell back at her.

"Shut it, nerd!"

"Make me, jerk!"

Mr. and Mrs. Lopez are laughing at our joking banter when Santana bursts into the dining room, her hands full of fluffy dish soap suds, which she promptly drops on my head and then rubs into my hair.

I gasp and jump out of my chair, and the chase is on. Santana is faster than me, but she's laughing hysterically as I pursue her, slowing her down. We dance around the table a few times, until Mr. L sticks out an arm and catches San around the waist. She squirms and twists, but she's laughing too hard to make any real defense. I run into the kitchen and grab some ice cubes, then march back into the dining room and pull the collar of her shirt out slightly before dropping them all in. I'm fairly confident that Santana's prominent cleavage will catch them before they fall out the bottom, and based on her wide eyed look and her hands flying to her chest, they've landed dead on. Mr. L releases his grip on San and she pulls out the bottom of her sports bra to release the cubes that got caught. She's a little breathless, but she manages to give us all exaggerated glares.

"I see how it is, showing favoritism to the white kid. That's fine, I'm used to it by now," Santana says in a wounded tone.

Her parents roll their eyes and I giggle. San winks at me.

_I could get used to this_.

* * *

**SANTANA**

When we get upstairs to get ready for bed, I pull Quinn into my bedroom and kiss her slowly. When we pull apart she looks at me as if to say "what was that for?"

"I'm just really glad you're here with us. You fit here, with me _and_ with my family," I explain.

Quinn smiles at me and gives me a little peck before answering.

"I've never felt so at home in my life, San. I feel like I actually have a family."

"I'll always be your family, Q."

* * *

Being back in school after this past weekend is weird. The Glee kids think they will suddenly be immune to the abuse they are usually subject to because we won sectionals. I feel bad for them because I know no one really cares, but I don't have the heart to burst their bubble. I'm just hoping that no one gets slushied for a few days. And I've noticed that some of my Glee teammates will actually make eye contact with me in the halls now, no doubt a side effect of my pep talks. I haven't decided yet if it's a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand it's kind of nice to have this whole group of people looking up to me, on the other I have an image to uphold that matters more now than ever. Before Quinn, I probably wouldn't have minded so much, but now I feel like so much is riding on how well I can walk a very thin line without slipping up. I need to be untouchable to protect us both, and part of that is being a Cheerio and projecting the bitch façade convincingly.

Besides the weirdness with the Glee kids, seeing Quinn in school now is the weirdest. I feel like I have a permanent smirk on my face because I can't stop thinking about the swear words tumbling from her perfect little mouth while I pumped inside her on Saturday night, or how she'd kissed me deeply just before I came, her surprisingly deft fingers buried deep inside of me. Quinn has carefully avoided my gaze today, probably because she can clearly see the racy thoughts dancing around in my dirty little mind. It's for the best, because we both know that we've got to be oh so careful if we're going to avoid becoming targets of ridicule in this closed minded dump of a town.

"LOPEZ!"

I cringe internally when I hear Coach yell my name down the hall, but still respond immediately, turning on my heel to head back to her office and stand in front of her desk.

"Yes, Coach?"

"You are in charge of the Cheerios while I'm on a temporary leave of absence. We only have a few weeks before Nationals and you're going to keep the ship afloat until I plot my return to glory. If we fail to win a championship, it will be a reflection of your failed leadership. I recommend you don't fail. What are your questions?"

I have at least 1,000 questions, none of which seem capable of travelling from my brain to my tongue. I am struck speechless, and I can almost feel the words jammed into the back of my throat. I feel like I'm actually choking on them as I try desperately to force the questions out of my mouth. I knew she was getting suspended, but I never imagined she'd put me in charge of the whole program. There must be some mistake.

"Uh, so…wait, what?" I finally manage to stutter out.

"Very articulate, Fanta Girl. With that tremendous thought process, I have nothing but confidence that you'll run the entire program aground in short order. Unfortunately, it's either you or Brittany, and I'm just not sure her child sized brain can handle everything without suddenly imploding and sending tiny rainbow colored dust clouds shooting out her ears."

And _that_ brings back my words real fucking quick.

"You know what, Coach? Brittany is more talented than you could ever have wished to be. She's not stupid, and if you ever imply that she is in my presence again, I'm gonna go allllll Lima Heights on your mean, selfish ass. I can _handle_ the Cheerios while you figure out whatever shitty revenge plot you've got up your sleeve for the Glee club and Principal Figgins—that's right, I know you got your ass tossed for giving up our set list—and we'll be ready to go whenever your little break is over. Maybe, just _maybe_, you could focus on getting us ready to win Nationals instead of trying to destroy Mr. Schue, and there would be enough money to get your stupid fucking confetti cannons _and_ allow the Glee club to exist.

And although I may be a mean bitch, I'm not quite as awful as you, so I'd like to thank you for what you did for Quinn on Friday. She and her baby girl are okay, in case you were wondering."

_HOLY SHIT._

I'm glaring at her, but I can't believe I just lit up Sue Sylvester, with a healthy sprinkling of profanity no less. She's about to destroy me. I should go. Now. I'm halfway out the door before Coach finally speaks.

"Now that's the Latina fire you're going to need in order to captain this ship until I get back." I freeze in the doorway but don't turn around. "In your locker is a cell phone containing a single contact number. Only use it for emergency purposes, but keep it on you in case I need to reach you."

I have no idea what this crazy old bitch is talking about, but I'm certain I'm going to find some creepy old school Nokia phone in my locker with said contact number in it. Honestly, this woman is an educator and we wonder why America is falling behind in pretty much every area of academic achievement.

"Oh, and Lopez? Take good care of Quinn. Now get the hell out of my office," Coach says before turning her chair so that her back is to me.

I don't hesitate to walk out, but glance back in the window as I pass in the hallway. Sue sees me and gives me that same weirdly proud look she wore the night Quinn went to the hospital. I wait until I'm out of sight to let my face show the complete confusion I'm feeling on the inside. _What the FUCK was that?_

I head straight to my locker and of course find a ratty old phone with one contact number and a single text.

**Anonymous: Charger is in your Cheerios locker. Acknowledge once you've received this.**

**Me: Got it.**

Seriously? This high school is ridiculous. I'm almost 100% positive that none of the shit that goes on here actually happens in real life, and the things that do probably don't end in a Glee club singing an oddly applicable song to all of the drama. Whatever, I'll carry Sue's stupid Batphone around if that's what it takes to be Head Cheerio, but I'm going to need my two main bitches to back me up if we're going to be ready without Coach Josef Stalin Sylvester around to run the show. I pull out my own phone and send a text to the Unholy Trinity.

**Me: UHT- Emergency meeting. Auditorium, lunch. ily both.**

**Britt Britt: yesssssss! With our powers combinedd….**

**Evil Bitch: See you guys there :)**

I laugh out loud when I get Britt's text and even harder when I get Quinn's. Might wanna change her name in my phone now that I don't think she's quite such an evil bitch. This is the first time we've been apart long enough to warrant a text, I'd completely forgotten that I'd passive aggressively changed it in the first place. I think it's more telling that despite everything, I kept her number in my phone.

Just thinking about Quinn puts a little smile on my face as I walk into Spanish class, ready to zone out and picture my naked girlfriend for the next 40 minutes.


	17. A Thousand Times Over

**A/N: Two quick updates, not sure how soon the next ones will come. I hope you enjoy, and as always, feel free to let me know what you think.**

* * *

**SANTANA**

I've been running the Cheerios for a week and I've gotta admit, I kind of love it. Recruiting Britt and Quinn to help has definitely paid off as well. They make me 1,000 times better than I would be alone, plus seeing my girlfriend back in her element has been more than worth it. The team has accepted her as if she never left. They know she's damn good at running this show, she was the first freshman captain in the history of the Cheerios for crying out loud—Quinn knows her shit.

I'm watching the team do yet another walk thru of our ground routine, with Quinn walking alongside Ali. The freshman Cheerio didn't back out of taking Britt's sequence after their nasty collision and she has improved dramatically with the great Quinn Fabray guiding her. I'm pretty impressed, kid has determination. The entire routine looks significantly cleaner than it had last week. I push them hard, but this team has responded to my every challenge.

Quinn meanders back to my side and stands watching the team reset to run it again, this time with music.

"Hey guys, you know what? Go grab some water and take a 5 minute break. Keep moving though, don't let your muscles tighten up," I announce, then turn to Quinn. "What do you think?"

"I think they look good, really good actually. You've done a great job, San. I'm really proud of you."

"_We've_ done a great job," I correct her, "there is no way I could have done this without you and Britt. Although your yoga pants are _incredibly_ distracting."

I know the smirk on my face is palpable, and even though she isn't actually looking at my face, Quinn knows it's there.

"Well I guess I'll just have to get out of them as soon as possible," she responds lightly, giving me a quick sideways glance with a smirk of her own before walking away to talk to Ali.

The heat that has traveled through my body lingers despite my attempts to regain my composure. I finally shake my head and move to get into position.

"Quinn, can you watch this run thru? I'm going to actually get into this one so we can run the entire thing," I call out to my pretty blonde girl.

"Sure," she says as she moves to the bleachers to watch from a better vantage point.

Britt sidles up next to me and leans her elbow on my shoulder, tilting her head to speak in my ear before skipping lightly to her mark.

"Quinn got ya worked up much?"

My mouth drops open, but I keep my eyes fixed forward in an effort to control my reaction. I can see my girlfriend laugh a little up in the bleachers and I'm certain she has a pretty good idea of what just happened.

_Fuckers, _I think with a little smile.

Quinn surveys the team and then cues the music. We complete the run through without any mid-air collisions or mishaps. I'm standing on the Cheerios guys' legs, in position for the pyramid build up, waiting on Q's assessment.

"Hey guys, that was great! Make sure you keep your lines clean. Ali, you were perfect on that run thru, do that every time. Spence, you didn't need to put your hand out to steady Santana that time, and you _certainly_ didn't need to cop a feel in order to steady her. Keep your hands to yourself. Let's do it again."

My eyes widen in surprise, I didn't even notice that he'd touched me at all. I glance down at Spence, formerly known as No Name, and I see his face and ears are bright red. I hop down from my position as the rest of the team resets as well.

"Sorry," he mumbles without looking me in the eye.

"Don't worry about it, tell me honestly—was I off balance?"

"I guess not," he says.

"Well, let's just try to keep the flip as streamlined as possible so we don't lose any points. If you have to steady me then that's better than me falling off completely. Good job though, we'll get it this time."

I move to my mark and look up at Quinn, who was evidently watching my little discussion because her nose is flared and she's avoiding my eye contact. Whatever, we'll deal with that little outburst later.

_Jealous Quinn. Interesting. Kinda Cute. Kinda Hot. Pretty sure she'll forget about this when she has my head between her legs…Holy shit, Santana, get your mind out of the gutter and back on task! Jesus._

I roll my eyes at myself and see Quinn is finally looking at me. Her face is hard as she looks straight into my eyes.

"Cue music," she says coldly.

_Well, shit._

* * *

**QUINN**

I know I'm being irrational, but I don't know how to say that since Santana and I haven't actually spoken since I gave her the stare down in the gym. Poor Brittany tried to bridge the awkward silence in the car on the way home, but it has persisted and now Santana is in her room taking a shower and I'm lying on my own bed for once. I pull out a notebook and flip it open in frustration, directly to a page I'd completely forgotten about.

_Santana's note from Saturday. How could I forget about this?_

I run my fingers over my own loopy handwriting, remembering the nervous anticipation I'd felt as I wrote it. I tear it out of the book and fold it neatly, writing the most beautiful name I know in careful cursive on the outside before carrying it over to her room and placing it on her desk.

Santana takes her sweet time in the shower, so I know it will be a bit before she sees it. I decide to start my homework for real, but quickly give up. I can't focus my thoughts when it feels like San is angry with me. I think about why I got so annoyed with her in the first place, because that's what has caused this whole mess.

Spence's big meaty hand flashing up to "steady" Santana's _boob_ had sent pure fury through my entire body, but for some reason it was really directed more towards _her_ than him. It's like I realized on the spot that I was going to have to witness things like that for as long as we're together, which of course means for the rest of my _life_. Anyone would get upset about that, right? I know it's not her fault that she is so ridiculously gorgeous and will inevitably be hit on more than the average 15 year old girl, but that doesn't stop it from being difficult to see someone touch her so intimately. No one knows she's mine, but she is.

I feel a sudden lump in the back of my throat and tears stinging at my eyes. _That's what it really is_. We've only been together for a week and I'm already having temper tantrums because I can't say Santana is my girlfriend, I can't lay claim to her as anything more than her best friend. My head drops down at the sudden realization and I take a long, quivering breath. How the hell are we going to manage this? I'm going to need to be so much stronger than I am.

* * *

**SANTANA**

I've been done with my shower for a while now, but I'm standing under the running water trying to figure out how to fix things with Quinn. I feel like this mini-fight isn't something either of us want, but when she didn't immediately come to me and speak I'd decided I wasn't going to try to bridge the gap this time. Quinn has to learn how to come to me with a problem instead of shutting down, and she never will if I'm always in her face trying to fix our issues. It's hard though, my instinct is to go to her.

I finally give up on solving this problem in the shower and start putting myself together. I take exactly one step into my bedroom and see a note with my name on it sitting on my desk. I drop my towel in my hurry to get to it, and start reading immediately.

_Santana Diabla Lopez-_

_I don't know what is going to happen in the next few moments or hours or days or weeks or years. I do know that I love you more than anything in this world and that, given the choice, I will always be yours. And there is also this:_

"_I revere you. I esteem and admire you above all human beings. You are the friend to whom my soul is attached as to its other half. You are the most amiable, the most perfect of women. And you are dearer to me than language has the power of telling…You are now all my own…How will my soul find room for its happiness? It seems already bursting!"_

_-Frances Burney, _Evelina

_That was written over 200 years ago and yet it seems to me as if it was written to describe my exact feelings for you. You are my dearest friend, my closest confidante, my perfect counterpoint. Santana, you are my __**LOVE**__._

_I love you—1,000 times over, I love you._

_Always yours-_

_Lucy Q_

I drop the paper to my floor and grab shorts and a tank top, pulling them on with fumbling urgency. I'm out my door and flying into Quinn's room in hardly a second.

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana bursts into my room and throws the door shut behind her as she climbs onto my bed and pulls me up to her so that we're both kneeling. She doesn't pause for even a second before she presses her lips against mine. Her impatient insistence wakes me up from my internal turmoil and I meet her halfway. Between kisses San starts whispering against my lips.

"So perfect."

Kiss.

"Exactly."

Kiss.

"What I needed."

Kiss.

"Love you."

Kiss.

"So much."

I pull her against me and kiss her even harder, trying to express even further how I feel about her. When Santana's hands come up to carefully cup my face she slows the kiss down and pulls back to look at me.

"Why were you crying, Quinn?"

Her voice is so gentle and sweet I feel like crying all over again.

"Just being an idiot, love. Don't mind me," I tell her.

"I do mind you. I mind you very much. Please tell me," she insists quietly.

"I was thinking about why I got so upset about Spence's hands being on you…and it's just that, I want to be able to actually claim you as mine. It hurts that I can't. And I know I'm going to have to deal with this same kind of thing for as long as we have to keep this secret. It just makes me worried because I feel like I need to be much stronger than this and it's only been a week. But listen to me Santana, I'm not going anywhere. I'm done with my little moment, I'm still right here with you, okay? I need for you to trust in that."

I look into Santana's eyes and give her a little smile, willing her to see and hear my sincerity.

"I trust you, babe. Thanks for telling me what's on your mind. I know this is something we're going to have to deal with. I can't _stand_ watching Puck stare at you in Glee like he has some kind of claim over you because he's an irresponsible asshole and didn't take care of you. So trust _me_, we're on the same page. But the way I see it, as long as you and I know where we belong, I don't care what anyone else wants to believe. My heart, my love—they are only yours."

"How do you do that? You always know exactly the right thing to say…"

"Please, Q. Have you read that note you gave me? It's like something out of a love manual. You're talented, Lucy Q. Fabray. I want to frame that paper as a memento of one of the most amazing nights of my life," Santana says with a smile.

"You give me too much credit," I tell her, rolling my eyes.

"Never. You hungry?"

"Depends on what I'm eating," I respond with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Santana recovers quickly from the clear shock that flashes across her features.

"Oh I think I know exactly what you want, hot stuff," she says in a sultry whisper.

"Do you?" I breathe with a little head tilt, pressing my body to hers again.

"Mmhmm," San nods, then presses her lips to mine softly, "you want _bacon_."

I can't help but laugh at that.

* * *

**SANTANA**

Coach is back.

The minute I see her looming figure I feel like the wind has left my sails. The past week and change I've spent running the Cheerios has been awesome. No abuse from Sue, the opportunity to spend time with my two favorite girls, being able to actually _lead_ without constant input or second guessing. Plus, I've felt like I could actually relax at Glee and just enjoy myself without the prospect of being asked to undermine the one part of my day that I get to spend challenging myself and discovering what my voice can really do.

It sucks to lose all of that, but mostly I'm going to miss having Quinn at practice. She's been an absolute all-star as a coach. It's almost as if her superpowers came back as soon as she stepped back in front of that team. Every single suggestion or criticism made the entire squad better, and it seems a horrible injustice that Coach Sue isn't going to allow her to be at practice anymore. So I'm going to do something about it.

I take a deep breath and steady myself before knocking on the door.

"Come in."

"Hi Coach. Welcome back," I say coolly. No point starting off with my demands.

"Well thank you, young ethnic Sue Sylvester. I gotta say, I am pretty impressed. I reviewed the Nationals routine tapes you sent me, and it seems as if you've not only kept the team from falling apart, you've actually whipped those whiny crybabies into something resembling an actual cheerleading squad. Clearly you aren't as utterly useless as I'd originally assumed."

If ever there was a perfect setup…

"I'm glad you feel that way Coach, we did work very hard on the routine in your absence. But, I can't take all of the credit. Brittany did a lot of the work on the choreography, and I also brought Quinn in to help sharpen our performance-"

"I beg your pardon? Did you just tell me that you invited the single greatest disappointment this program has ever seen to take a position of leadership in front of my squad?" Coach looks completely horrified. I have to fight to keep my temper in check.

"Yes, that's exactly what I told you. We're better with her, Coach. She made a huge difference at practice over the past week, and the team respects her. Yeah, she should have told you about everything, but she was scared! You can't tell me that you've never regretted a decision you've made. If you keep Quinn from coming to practice, you are hurting our chances of winning. If nothing else, that should be enough reason to keep her around."

"Absolutely not," she says dismissively.

I don't have any control over the words that come out of my mouth next, because they are possibly the worst words I could say.

"If she goes, Brittany and I go too. It's up to you."

I keep my face blank after I spew my word vomit. I can't unsay it, but if I show a shred of doubt in my conviction Coach will tear me to pieces.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Lopez. Are you really ready to walk these halls without that uniform? Are you ready to drink up the slushie shame that will come your way once you're nothing but a mediocre backup Glee clubber? I hope so, if you're really willing to wager your position that I need you that badly," Coach tells me with narrowed eyes.

My insides churn with fear. I _need_ to be a Cheerio, but Coach doesn't know just how much. And _I_ know that no one could replace Britt and me to a high enough standard to win Nationals in just a few weeks. My mask of indifference is fixed in place, thank God.

"The only _danger_ here is that the Cheerios will lose the National championship because you are too stubborn to do whatever it takes to win. Quinn will help us win. As the head bitch in charge of this team, I'll do whatever I can to get that trophy back to McKinley where it belongs. The only real question here is whether or not you're willing to do the same."

I hold my chin up and regard Coach, waiting for the explosion that seems most likely at this point.

"I've never liked you, Latin Barbie, but I've got to give you some credit for the apparently huge lady balls you are carrying around with you. I'll make you a deal. Quinn can continue to come to practice—for now. But in return, you and Brittany are going to pursue one Finn Hudson as if your lives depend on it. It'll drive Rachel Berry crazy, destroying the undisputed star of the Glee club. Do we have a deal?" Coach has a vicious sneer on her face as she asks me to agree to her insane arrangement.

_Well fuck._


	18. Trinity, Trust, Tricycles, and a Baby

**A/N: It's been asked what seasons this fic will cover. This story will probably run through the end of season 1, but I'll consider writing a sequel if enough people are interested and ask for it. And to the guest reviewer who feels Brittany shouldn't be tagged in this story: if the summary and the first 16 chapters didn't indicate to you that this isn't a Brittana fic, I'm not sure that untagging Brittany would actually help you. Everyone else, I hope you enjoy. As always, feel free to let me know what you think.**

* * *

**SANTANA**

The only way to go about this is to just tell her. Tell her what Coach wants and then we'll figure out what to do together. Or maybe I need to talk to Britt first. _This is so fucking stupid._ I'm tired of being a pawn in Sue Sylvester's crazy schemes.

**Me: I need to talk to you B.**

I hit send and feel an almost immediate tap on my shoulder that makes me jump.

"Whoa, sorry," Brittany says, "you looked a little stressed out, thought maybe you needed someone to talk to? Wait, hang on, my phone's buzzing."

I watch my pretty blonde friend pull out her phone and read my message.

"Damn, I'm good. Let's go for a walk," she says with a smile.

We walk outside and go under the bleachers. It's out little safe haven, protected from view and the wind whipping across the football field. Britt and I used to come here on occasion to make out. I peek a look at her, wondering if she's thinking the same thing.

"So what's the story? Something going on with you and Quinn?"

"Not exactly." I sigh deeply and look at my best friend. "I told Sue that if she wouldn't let Quinn come to Cheerios anymore, you and I would quit."

I feel terrible for dragging Britt's name into my ultimatum without talking to her, but she nods at my statement and waits for me to continue.

"She said Quinn could stay for now, if you and I try to date fucking Finn Hudson to get Berry to quit Glee."

Brittany raises her eyebrows at that and blinks hard.

"That's dumb. It won't even work. Finn and Rachel are totally going to end up together," Britt says with certainty.

"I don't even want to know why you think that, because they're possibly the most annoying combination of human beings ever, but that doesn't change my problem. Quinn will flip if I do this, and I really don't blame her. What am I supposed to do? I _can't_ quit Cheerios, I _don't_ want to ruin Glee, and I _definitely_ don't want to pursue Finn."

"Well what if I go after Finn alone?" Britt proposes simply.

Honestly, this idea hadn't even occurred to me before. The idea of tossing B out like a lamb to slaughter actually makes me queasy. I can't sacrifice her to protect me and Quinn.

"I can't ask you to do that, Britt. I shouldn't have dragged your name into this in the first place."

Brittany regards me for a moment, studying me in her unique way before apparently finding whatever she is looking for.

"Okay then, here's what we'll do. Three-way date. Finn is a _dude_, who hasn't lost his virginity yet. He'll jump at the chance to go on a date with two smoking hot chicks. Then we'll be as rude as humanly possible for the entirety of the date and chase him off. This way we'll comply with Coach's request, we'll get dinner at Breadstix, and neither of us will actually have to date Finn."

I'm completely blown away by Britt yet again. I can't begin to understand why anyone would think she's dumb just because she doesn't care for school. Brittany is smart in all of the ways that matter, I legitimately have no idea what I'd do without her.

"Once again you prove your brilliance, Brittany S. Pierce. We cover all of our bases without any horrific downfalls. I'm pretty sure Q will still be upset though. Do you think you could come over after school so we can talk to her together?"

Brittany smiles at me and pulls me in for a quick hug.

"Of course, but I think she'll handle it okay. That whole Spence thing was just a bad moment because she didn't know how to handle it. Quinn loves you, she'll understand that you're doing this for her in the end. We'll get through this together, don't worry."

* * *

Quinn is quiet, her eyes focused on her hands resting on her lap. She looks contemplative, but not upset. Still, her silence unnerves me. Brittany catches my eye and shakes her head, telling me to wait for Quinn to speak when she's ready. When my girlfriend's pretty green eyes finally look up, they are calm and clear.

"So if I just don't come to Cheerios anymore, would you still have to do this? I mean, I appreciate you trying to keep me around, San, but it's not worth it if Sue is going to use me to make you guys do a bunch of crap."

Brittany and I look at one another for a beat and I can tell we're on the same page.

"We've thought about that," Britt tells her, "but we're pretty sure Coach wouldn't back off this if we caved. She wants the Glee club, she's just using you as extra incentive for us to do it. We're pretty sure she'll still try to force us to do this."

Quinn nods, she knows better than anyone how Sue is.

"I just feel bad that you guys have to do this, even if it's only ostensibly for me. I know neither of you really like Finn all that much. But in terms of us, Santana, my heart, my love—they belong to you," she echoes my words to her, looking into my eyes, "and I know I have yours. I trust you, love. We'll be fine. Besides, if anyone can be rude enough to get Finn to look past their overwhelming hotness, it's you."

Quinn gives me a smartass look and I pretend to be affronted.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I am as sweet as pie." I respond with mock curtness.

Brittany _and_ Quinn snort at my assertion and start reciting some of my "greatest hits" insults. They're laughing heartily and I can't help but join in. It's actually much funnier to hear someone else say the crazy ass shit I come up with. I feel so much lighter now. We've got a solution, and it's not God awful.

_Crisis averted._

* * *

**QUINN**

Brittany and Santana are recounting the details of their "date" with Finn and I am absolutely dying laughing. I feel a twinge of guilt that Finn had to endure their crazy antics, but it's impossible to ignore how hilarious these two girls are when they're together. I love hanging out with the two of them because there is an entirely different side to Santana that shines through when she's with Brittany. San is protective of Britt, but she also has this tremendous confidence in B that no one else seems to possess. I have to admit that even I have snapped at Brittany before when she made a comment that made no sense to me, but Santana maintains a steady acceptance of our weirdly brilliant friend that I admire so much. If nothing else, Santana has proven time and again her steadfast loyalty to those she loves. It's one of the things I love most about her.

Our little trio has grown so much closer over the past couple of weeks, and I couldn't be more thankful. My relationship to Brittany has become stronger with every day, which is so important because I know I couldn't handle their friendship without having such a great one with Britt myself. It's the only way I was able to calmly watch these two link their pinkies and approach Finn in the flirty, sexy way that only they could really pull off. I trust them both. It's kind of strange, because having that kind of faith in people is not my forte, but it's also a relief.

"So then San told Finn that the deal was he had to buy us dinner and we'd make out in front him," Britt says with a laugh.

"Oh my God, as soon as I said that all I could think was 'OH SHIT,' because honestly I didn't know if we could pull off being rude enough to make him run away from watching that. Let's be honest: best. deal. ever."

I'm watching them with a bemused expression, but I'm actually kind of curious now.

"So what would you have done if he'd stuck around for that?" I ask.

Two sets of eyes snap to mine and I look between them, almost laughing at the deer-in-headlights expression they're both wearing. Brittany's searching ends before Santana's, as if she's already seen everything she needs to know. She offers up a shrug.

"I mean, I guess we'd have just made out. It's not like it would have meant anything," Britt states with calm indifference.

Santana's head whips around to look at Brittany, her eyes wide. Her face wears an expression that's the closest thing to disapproval I've ever seen San express towards Britt. My girlfriend is sputtering, apparently lost for words. Rare to see, at best.

"Whoa love, calm down, it's fine!" I say as I reach for her hand. "I honestly don't think that would bother me, in that context. I was just curious, really."

Santana looks unconvinced. Her eyes are searching mine again, her hand squeezing my own.

"You're the only person I want to kiss, Q." Santana says quietly, before adding, "No offense B. You're a fantastic kisser and all…"

Brittany rolls her eyes at San and looks at me for a long minute before leaning forward and giving me a sweet, soft kiss on the lips. It's short and innocent, and clearly meant to make a point. When my eyes slide over to Santana, she is frozen in shock, her mouth hanging open.

"Well now I've kissed you both, so either you can both be weird about it and keep making sure I don't feel bad because you only want to kiss each other, _or_ you can believe me when I say that I'm really, really super happy for you guys and don't need or want you to feel bad that you are meant for each other and not me. I've been crossing my fingers _and_ my toes since the first time you two kissed, hoping against hope that you'd see what was soooo obvious to me. I had a teensy crush on you," she says to Santana, "when I first met you, but once you guys kissed I knew I would only ever be a placeholder for you. And I was okay with that, because even though kissing you was nice and I love being around you, I know real love when I see it. You guys are tethered to one another in some way that I might not ever understand, but I can _feel. _So can we just all be best friends without feeling bad that I'm your third wheel? Last time I checked, you can't have a tricycle without three wheels, and tricycles are basically awesome."

Brittany takes a deep breath after her mini monologue and looks at us both pointedly. I feel a ridiculous, huge grin slowly taking over my face and I shake my head a little. Santana looks at me, trying to discern what my reaction means.

"Brittany Pierce, you're awesome. More than awesome. You're the freaking best. You are totally the glue of this little threesome," I declare sincerely.

"Wanky."

Santana is smirking at her own dirty little comment, and Brittany and I groan.

"That was a sincere moment, San!" I whine.

"Yeah it was. Sincerely wanky," Santana answers me cheekily.

"Honestly you are just shameless, I give up."

Santana's eyes light up and she hops to her feet, reaching out to pull Britt up beside her.

_Well I'm SHAMELESS_

"Oh God," I say, my eyes wide.

_When it comes to LOOOOOVING YOUUUUUU_

Brittany catches on quickly and joins Santana's boisterous singing.

_I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT ME TOOOOO_

_I'LL DO ANYTHING AT ALLLLLL_

"Okay guys, I get it," I try to acquiesce to get them to stop.

Instead, they pull me up to sway with them as they continue their crazy country warbling. Santana is holding a non-existent mic in her hand and she's in full crooner mode. She grabs a hold of my hand and sings directly to me.

_And I'm STANDING_

Britt stop singing along and instead turns on her cellphone screen and starts waving it from side to side. Santana continues without skipping a beat, her voice less goofy but still carrying that country twang.

_Here for all the world to see_

Santana spreads her arms wide and gives a little shrug of her shoulders.

_Oh baby that's what's left of me_

_Don't have very far to fall_

_You know now I'm not a girl_

She winks at me when she changes the lyric from "man" to "girl."

_Who has ever been_

_Insecure about the world I've been living in_

Santana pulls me closer to her and softens her voice, singing more like herself.

_I don't break easy _

_I have my pride_

_But if you need to be satisfied_

_I'm SHAMELESS_

The deep, sexy quality of her voice shines through when she sings "shameless," and I can't help myself any longer. I press my mouth to hers, her shirt bunched in my fists as I pull her to me. We kiss for a long minute before slowly pulling away, little smiles on both of our faces. We both register Brittany looking at us with big grin and breathe out a couple of soft laughs.

"Hey, you didn't want us feeling sorry we're so in love, right?" Santana ask Britt with an innocent little shrug of her shoulders.

God she's so cute. I kiss her adorable dimple and release her shirt in favor of looping my arms around her. My bump prevents us from being fully pressed together, and just when I feel a frown forming on my face Santana brings her hand down to rest on the side of it as she throws a quick kiss on my forehead almost absentmindedly.

"Don't stop on my record, I think it's kind of hot," Brittany responds.

"Accord, B. It's don't stop on my _accord_," San corrects casually.

"Good call Sanny, that actually makes a lot more sense." Britt says before she hops up and walks into San's bathroom.

I look at my girlfriend's face to see her reaction to being called "Sanny." Unsurprisingly, she looks completely unaffected, but I know that if anyone else on earth called her that she'd be throwing daggers with her glare. Well, except maybe me, but "Sanny" sounds so foreign to me I don't think I'd ever call her that. She's always been "San" or "Tana" to me, and most recently, "love." That last one is my favorite, because it's the perfect nickname for her. She _is_ love. She's _my _love.

"What's going on in your head, pretty lady?" Santana murmurs, her eyes studying my face.

"Mmm nothing, just thinking about how much I love you," I tell her.

"Oh yeah? How much do you love me? This much?" She holds her fingers an inch apart.

I shake my head emphatically.

"This much?" Her fingers spread the tiniest bit.

I shake my head again.

"Well how much then?"

"This much," I breathe out before kissing her slowly and deeply.

"That's a lot of love, Q." Santana says, a little breathless.

"You have no idea."

* * *

**SANTANA**

I am legitimately exhausted. Between Cheerios and Glee, actually passing my classes, and my hormonal pregnant girlfriend keeping me up half the night, my body is overwhelmed. Quinn has reached some crazy part of pregnancy where all she wants to do all the time is have sex. As a general rule, this new development is 1000% okay with me, but I can feel myself getting more run down. We only have a few weeks until Christmas break and Quinn is into her second trimester now. I'm fixing my eyes on getting to break so that I can get some rest. I don't want to get sick, because I know my dad will totally isolate me from my girlfriend, and rightfully so.

Coach has only just gotten over the fact that Finn "turned down" the two hottest non-pregnant bitches in the school. Our punishment was certainly exhausting, but Brittany had actually turned to me during one of our many suicide sprints and _smiled_. I knew she felt like we had really won the standoff, and she was right. No amount of running would ever be worse than having to date Finn and Quinn is still an assistant coach on the team. I'm actually fairly certain Quinn's presence is part of why we were forced to run for the entire length of practice for five days straight. Britt and I are pretty fit, but we were definitely sucking by the end, and all Quinn could do was cast an occasional glance our way and mouth _I'm sorry_. Every night I'd assure her that it wasn't her fault and every night she'd try to keep our physical contact PG so that I wouldn't get yet another workout. We didn't succeed once.

This week has been slightly less brutal now that the insane running hell of Cheerios practice has ended and we're back to just practicing routines like crazy. I'm still tired, but I feel pretty confident that when Quinn sneaks out of her room and into mine tonight I won't be getting much rest. I could be a complete zombie, I'll never turn her away. She's just so fucking sexy. It's not even fair. How is anyone supposed to look at those eyes, those lips, that _face, _and have any kind of resolve?

My door cracks open slightly and the very face of heaven pops in my door with a radiant smile. She tiptoes in and slides under the blankets I'm holding up, turning into me and kissing me immediately. I wrap my arm around her tightly, pulling her against me. I'm a little surprised when she pulls away after just a moment.

"You need to rest." Quinn whispers sternly.

"Are you telling me or yourself?" I ask her wryly.

"Both of us," she says with a smile.

She turns and wiggles back into me. I gather her hair to the side and carefully press a small kiss to the back of her neck. With a happy sigh, I wrap my arm around her and rest my palm against her growing baby bump.

"Love you, pretty lady."

"Love you most, Tana."

We lie in comfortable silence and it isn't long until I feel Quinn's breathing evening out. It's honestly ridiculous how much I love her. I'm not one to worry about things too much, but sometimes I feel like things are just too good to be true right now. We're so young, there is so much ahead of us, and this is so _new_. I try not to think about it, but sometimes it's just overwhelming. If anyone else our age talked about _forever _or _soul mates_ I'd laugh in their face and bring them back to reality real quick. And yet here I am, totally sold on the certainty that I want to be next to Quinn for my entire life. I get goosebumps just thinking about it. I press a soft kiss to Quinn's shoulder and close my eyes, trying to quiet my thoughts.

Just as I'm nodding off, I feel something against my palm. My head pops up off the pillow and I wait, holding my breath. _There_. The baby just kicked my hand.

_HOLY CRAP THE BABY JUST KICKED MY HAND._

I lie still and sure enough, she kicks again. I feel Quinn stir with that one, her handing coming down suddenly to cover mine.

"Did you feel that?" she asks me in a loud whisper.

"Yeah baby, I felt it," I reply thickly, tears on my face, "She's kicked three times, right at my hand."

"Oh my God, this is amazing! She's kicking! Holy cow!"

I smile even broader at that. Who says "holy cow," seriously. Quinn's reaction is so cute, my heart feels like it's going to explode.

"Pretty little girl is just saying hi to her momma," I murmur quietly into Q's ear.

Quinn turns over to look at me, a huge smile on her face.

"I'm so glad you're here for this, San."

I lean forward and kiss her soft lips.

"I'm blown away right now, Q. I can't believe how much I love this little girl. She's perfect, just like you."

Quinn gasps and grabs my hand, pressing it to her stomach. We look at each other and smile when she kicks again.

"Ella es un pateadora," I declare. "I think we should call her Dora until we pick a name."

"Maybe if you tell me what "pateadora" means," Quinn responds, laughing lightly. "Otherwise it just sounds like "Dora the Explorer.""

"God, no. It means "kicker," which seems kind of perfect and somehow less cruel than calling her diabla bebé," I tell her with a chuckle.

"Ooooh good one, San. I like it."

Quinn kisses me, then looks down and puts both hands on her stomach.

"Hi, Dora," she whispers, "We love you."


	19. Maybe I Can Be Your Resting Hour

**A/N: Thanks for all of the feedback you guys have given me on this story. As long as you continue to enjoy it, I'll continue to write. Happy Weekend!**

* * *

**QUINN**

Winter break, finally. We both need this break, especially Santana. We actually get four days completely off from Cheerios and only have one practice a day the rest of the time. I can't wait to spend every minute I possibly can with this beautiful girl, plus I'm _super_ excited to exchange Christmas gifts with her. It's the first time we've had a reason to get each other gifts, which was a lot more complicated to work out than I expected since we're always together. I managed, though, and I'm hoping she loves what I got her.

Britt is driving us home from school to an empty house and I can feel Santana's anticipation. She's practically bouncing in the backseat. B glances in the rearview mirror and then looks at me with a smirk. I can't help but return it, because I know it's going to be an amazing afternoon for us.

I happen to know that Santana and I have _incredibly_ hot sex. I'm kind of proud of us, actually. We have the least awkward, most comfortable sex life I could ever imagine. Nothing has been rushed or forced between us, everything we've tried has kinda just happened naturally. I think Santana is surprised by how open I am about it, since pre-pregnancy I was the chastity princess of Lima, but I don't feel uncomfortable talking about our sex life at all. My girlfriend, on the other hand, is much more guarded when the topic arises, which is literally only with Brittany. If either of us is going to answer a question, it is almost always going to be me. Santana becomes all coy as soon as the topic comes up. Likewise, San will almost always break a kiss in Britt's presence before I will and I usually initiate them in the first place. Brittany seems to find it kind of hilarious, because it's the exact opposite of what would be expected from our personalities. She likes to tease my beautiful, bashful girl by asking awkward questions out of nowhere. After San looks away and shakes her head, Britt will glance at me to get the answer. Most of the time I don't actually have to say anything, just the look on my face gives it away.

I'm pretty sure the looks on my _and_ San's face are quite telling at the moment, because Brittany gives us both a full grin as we get out of the car and tells us to have _fun._ I smirk at her and let her know that we most certainly _will_. Santana rolls her eyes at both of us and grabs my hand to pull me to the house. I give Britt a little wave as she pulls out of the driveway, then follow Santana inside. I know once that door closes she's going to make her move, but I've got other plans for this afternoon, so I try to control the raging hormones in my body.

I close the door behind myself and lean back on it, biting my lower lip and raising my eyebrows at my love. I get a radiant smile from her as she pulls off her Cheerios jacket and steps forward to press against me. She kisses my check lightly, bringing her hands up to unbutton my coat and slide it off my shoulders and onto the floor. Her lips travel slowly along my jaw until she reaches my earlobe, which she gently nips.

"We have three hours until Mom gets home," she whispers in my ear, "and I have some _very_ specific plans for every minute of it."

I laugh lightly, the combination of my excitement and her breath on my ear making me giddy.

"I'm sorry baby, but I'm going to have to cancel your plans, because I have some of my own. Don't worry though, you're going to like my plans," I tell her, ghosting my lips on hers for just a second.

"Why do you get to do your plans? I've been thinking about my plans all day," Santana says with a pout.

"Becaaaauuuuse. You've been so good about taking care of me and I want to take care of you today. Besides, I'm pregnant. That counts for something, right?"

"Are you going to be cranky Quinn if I don't agree to this?"

"Absolutely."

"Then we can do whatever you want, pretty lady."

"Mmhmm. Thought so."

* * *

We've managed to make our way upstairs to San's room, which I noticed she recently referred to as "our room." She didn't seem to even register what she said, so I'd accepted it just as simply. She has a point, though. I hardly spend any time at all in my own room.

Santana is lying on her back on the bed, her hair loose and spread out all around her. It's moments like this that I wish I had camera on me at all times. Somehow I know that no picture could ever do the sight before me justice though. I run my hand up her bare thigh, sliding it under the hem of her Cheerios skirt. My fingertips gently brush along her inner thigh before running back down. Santana's breath catches every time my hand slides upwards and I marvel again that I can have that effect on this incredible girl.

Santana has knee high Christmas socks on with her uniform today, and I slowly slide each of them off before tossing them on the floor. I trail my hand up her shin to her knee, picking her leg up and pressing my fingers into her insanely sexy calf muscle. San's eyes fall shut and she brings her hands up behind her head, relaxing at my touch. I switch legs and smile at the happy, content expression on my girlfriend's face. I know the next part is going to be much trickier though. As soon as I start taking clothes off of her it's going to be much harder to keep her lying still and probably even harder to control my own wandering hands.

I drop her leg and move up her body, sliding down the zipper on her skirt and pulling it down her legs. Santana observes me, trying to determine my motive.

"I'm going to get you out of this skirt and top, then I'm going to give you a massage. _Only a _massage," I tell her sternly, "At least for now."

I get a full smile from San at that and she quickly aids the removal of her skirt, kicking it off her feet with enthusiasm. She reaches for the zipper on her top, but I pull her hands away in order to do it myself. Soon, Santana is lying on the bed in just her spanks, and I'm invoking every last ounce of my self-control to keep from touching her beautiful body. She looks like she just stepped out of a very vivid fantasy. _My_ very vivid fantasy.

"Roll over, baby," I whisper.

Santana immediately complies and I have to say, the view on this side isn't any less fantastic. I run my fingertips up the backs of her legs lightly, smiling at the way her muscles jump under my touch. I trace the edge of her spanks that just barely covers her cute little ass. Again, her muscles flex under my caress. It was a very strategic move to leave those spanks on, since they're possibly the only thing that has kept my raging desire for her in check. I'm certain that without that tiny piece of cloth I'd be a lost cause.

I lay my palm flat on her leg that's closest to me and drag it up over the thin red material covering her skin before moving to straddle my legs over hers. Slowly, ever so slowly, I press my hands into her overworked muscles and push my hands up her muscular back. I can hear her soft breathing intermixed with an occasional groan. When I reach her upper back I glide my fingertips back down. I can feel the tiny hairs on her skin rise at my light touch.

I rub her back, her legs, her shoulders, her neck. Santana sighs often, letting an occasional moan slip through her lips. I know how much she needed a chance to just relax, I can already see how much calmer her face appears.

"Okay baby, roll over again," I direct her.

I see her smile into the pillow before turning over slowly. She reaches behind her to gather her hair together, then lays her head back down on her interlaced hands. I'm overwhelmed by her beauty for a beat before I lean over and kiss her. She tastes like cinnamon gum, and I can't help but to slip my tongue in her mouth for a split second. When I lean back, Santana follows me for a moment to extend our kiss.

I smile at her when she finally falls back down to the pillows. I lie down on my side next to her, tracing her defined abs with my fingertips. I can tell it tickles, but she does a valiant job of lying as still as possible.

"You have too many articles of clothing on," she says to me.

I roll my eyes at her and quickly strip down to a tank top and my underwear. This is about Santana, if I get naked I know she'll turn the tables with surprising ease. I climb back into my spot next to her and my fingers return to grazing her stomach. My hands slide upwards of their own accord, and I capture her lips with mine just as my fingertips brush over her soft breast. Santana arches sexily into my touch, and I know we've reached that point of no return. I don't have the willpower to stop this forward momentum, nor do I want to.

I bring my hand up to caress her face lightly, my thumb ghosting softly over her cheekbone. When I pull back, I look into her eyes as I softly trace her beautiful face with my fingers. I'm enraptured as I trace her full lips, then run my fingers across them. Santana presses a gentle kiss to my fingertips and then smiles up at me.

She's too much, much too much, for me to handle. I close my eyes and press my forehead to hers briefly before I kiss her quickly, right between her eyebrows and then kiss her lips passionately, fervently. Santana's arms wrap around me and our kiss becomes even more urgent.

I push myself up and break the kiss, moving my wet mouth to her jaw and neck. I nip and suck, careful not to leave a mark in my wake until I get down to her collarbone. I suck hard on the skin there and Santana gasps, her hands flying up to grip my hair. I intentionally leaving a deep reddish-purple bruise behind, staking the only claim on her skin that I can.

I move on quickly, leaving a trail of kisses, bites, and licks down Santana's torso, grinning against her skin every time she presses up against my mouth. When I reach her abdomen I lay kisses on each individual muscle at the same time that my fingers come up to hook in the top of her spanks. I peel them off of her and toss them to the floor with the rest of her clothes.

I run my hand up her leg, stopping _just_ shy of her clearly wet center. Santana's breath catches and she arches towards me, her eyes popping open in sudden frustration when she realizes I'm really not about to touch her. I give her a smirk and crawl up her body to kiss her.

"I'm going to fuck you with my tongue," I tell her matter-of-factly.

"_Shit_," she breathes out in response, her voice deep with arousal.

"In fact, I'm going to fuck you with my tongue _and _my fingers. How does that sound, Santana? Do you want that?"

"_Uh huh, please, yes._" Santana's voice has taken on this sexy whine as she practically begs me to go down on her. I don't need to be asked twice.

"Okay. Be right back." She looks up at me and I wink at her before I quickly trail kisses down her body and settle myself between her legs.

I wrap my left arm under her right leg and press soft kisses to her inner thigh, moving slowly upwards. I run my tongue along the soft skin at the innermost part of her leg and glance up to see Santana gazing down at me, her face reflecting pure desperation and want. I can't tease her anymore.

I look right into the warmest brown eyes on earth and run my tongue slowly up her slit, tasting the delicious slippery wetness that is gathered there. Santana's eyes fall shut as I begin to work my tongue against her sensitive clit. I trace soft circles around it, pinning her hip to the bed when she tries to buck up in search of more contact. I slide my tongue back down to her entrance and don't even hesitate to push it into her as far as I can.

"_Oh GOD_," I hear Santana husks out forcefully, one of her hands reaching down to grab my hair.

I press my tongue in and out of her rhythmically, setting a steady pace that matches the slight quivering Santana is managing. I know she'll never orgasm like this though, so I bring my mouth back up to her clit, slowly sliding my fingers inside her to replace my tongue.

"_Shit Quinn, oh shit baby. Yessss."_

Santana's voice sends heat through my body and wetness floods between my own legs. I control my desire to take her hard and fast, and continue to lick and suck at her clit without building too much of a rhythm. My fingers are buried deep inside her, but I don't move them. I want to hear her beg. It might be cruel, but it's also the sexiest fucking thing I've ever heard.

"_Baby, please. Please, baby."_

Santana can only manage two words in varying order. I pull her clit between my lips gently, smiling when I release it to a deep groan.

"_Fuck baby, PLEASE."_

With that I start to drag my fingers in and out. I pull my mouth away for just a second while I concentrate on working my fingers.

"Christ Santana, you are so tight. I love being inside you like this."

"_I love it when you fuck me, Q. Please don't stop._"

I bring my mouth back down and flatten my tongue against her clit and I speed up my fingers at the same time. Santana is reduced to making sexy noises above me and writhing like a mad woman.

Santana's stomach muscles clench hard, my favorite sign that she's close. I keep my rhythm fast and steady as all of the other little hints I've become accustomed to begin to show themselves. I know she's right there.

All at once I feel her clench down on my fingers and her leg muscles tighten and lock as her orgasm washes over her.

"_Fuuuuuck."_

I keep moving inside of her until I feel her muscles begin to relax, then I slowly bring her down. When her body has gone limp I place soft kisses to each of her hip bones before crawling up to lie next to her. Santana reaches out and grabs me, pulling me in for a sexy, wet kiss and moaning into my mouth when she tastes herself on my tongue. _So fucking hot._

"I legitimately _loved_ doing that," I tell her honestly.

Santana smiles with her eyes closed.

"Trust me, babe, I loved you doing that too," she answers with a breathy laugh.

I kiss her warm cheek and nuzzle my face into her neck, throwing my arm across her waist.

"Honey?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I promise I'm going to reciprocate, but would you mind very much if I take a little nap first? I'm sorry, I'm just so tired."

I laugh a little at that. On a typical night, Santana will get me 2 to 1. I find it both endlessly frustrating and incredibly enjoyable. San keeps telling me it's just because my body recovers faster than hers, but I've remained dubious. Nevertheless, I'm glad she's willing to rest instead of immediately trying to even things up.

"Don't be an idiot, Lopez. Get some rest. You've more than earned it."

I pull back the blankets and help Santana climb under. She seems dazed with exhaustion, but manages to smile at me when we snuggle close together.

"Your plan was awesome, Q. Mind-blowingly, amazingly, awesome. Thank you."

"You're welcome, love."


	20. Everything I Need Is All That You Are

**A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone chose to follow or favorite this story, and especially to those who review. I honestly never anticipated writing 20 chapters as quickly as I have. I hope you enjoy this one!**

* * *

**SANTANA**

It's Christmas morning and I'm lying with Quinn in my arms. We're wearing matching pajamas, at my mother's insistence, and I smile at the cuteness that is Quinn wearing reindeer-covered footie pajamas. She's legitimately precious.

As an only child, my Christmases have always centered on me. When I was little I would tear through the house screaming about Santa bringing me "all of the presents." I had no idea that we were dirt poor and that other kids had a whole shit ton more under their trees. My parents didn't exchange gifts until I was like 10 years old because there was no extra money after getting me a couple of special items. It actually took me that long to realize they were unwrapping stuff we already had on Christmas morning. I give my parents a lot of credit for everything they did to make sure I didn't go without, but also that I wasn't attached to the monetary gifts of Christmas.

My favorite tradition, hands down, is that I usually sleep in my parents' bed on Christmas Eve. Every year for as long as I can remember, I'd cuddle in between them and we'd just talk until I fell asleep. Four people is a little much to sleep comfortably, but I wasn't about to give up my tradition, so last night we'd all climbed into bed and watched TV, laughing and joking until it got late. Quinn had already fallen asleep, so my dad picked her up gently and carried her to my room. Mom gave me a squeeze and a kiss on the forehead before sending me after her. Our little quad has become a tightknit family and I'm overwhelmed with happiness just thinking about it.

I look at the clock and realize my parents will be getting up soon to start making coffee and whatnot. I need a few moments alone with Quinn before Christmas really starts.

"Baby girl," I whisper in her ear, "wake up. Come on, pretty lady."

Quinn stirs and smiles before opening her eyes.

"There she is!" I say brightly, giving her a big smile.

"Morning, love." Quinn mumbles.

"Santana Claus has something for you. Do you think you can wake up enough to open a gift?"

Quinn pops up comically, her eyes wide.

"Yes! I want to give you your gift, too."

"Okay, but me first," I demand before hopping up to grab her gift out of my closet.

I put it on the bed in front of her and hold my breath nervously as I watch my pretty blonde girlfriend tear open the wrapping. She freezes when she's got it open and looks at me before picking up the framed 3D ultrasound picture from the night she went to the hospital.

"Open the back," I tell her quietly.

She does as I say and pulls out a single folded piece of paper and a picture that are tucked behind the ultrasound. She studies the picture first, a little smile on her lips.

Brittany took it on one of our goofy days hanging out downstairs in the living room. In it, Quinn and I are laughing. I'm standing behind her, with my hand protectively palming her little bump. Quinn's hand covers mine and she's leaning back against me, her head angled so that she can see my face. As soon as Britt snapped it, we'd looked up and smiled at her, and she'd taken another picture. There are a whole bunch of pictures from that day, but this one is far and away my favorite.

Quinn leans forward and gives me a little kiss before unfolding the small piece of paper in her hands.

_Quinn,_

_Being with you for this ultrasound was possibly one of the most powerful experiences of my life. Until that night, I resented our little kicker for "ruining" your life. But the minute I saw her—Quinn, that moment will stay with me forever. I love her as deeply as I've ever loved anything. Whatever you choose to do, I will support you in any way I can. Just know that, no matter what, you've created something beautiful and perfect, and I couldn't be more proud of you for how brave you've been._

_That picture of us is one of my favorites. Being with you makes me happier than I could have ever imagined. I know we've got a lot ahead of us, but I believe in us. Someday that'll be on a shelf in the open where it belongs._

_And the onesie is for, you know, just in case._

_Merry Christmas._

_Love you,_

_Santana_

Quinn looks at me quizzically, then looks back in the box. She pulls out a little baby onesie and unfolds it. I watch her face as she reads it out loud.

"If you think I'm cute, you should see my moms."

She laughs and shakes her head before leaning forward to kiss me once again.

"This is all so perfect, Santana. Thank you," Quinn's eyebrows shoot up in excitement, "My turn!"

She grabs a box from under my bed.

"Really? You hid this in _here_?" I'm incredulous.

"Have you looked under your bed lately? No chance you were going to find it." Quinn retorts. I shrug my shoulders at her with a laugh.

"Good point."

"Just so you know, you can't exactly _keep_ this gift just yet, okay?"

My eyebrows come together in confusion, but I nod anyway before slowly opening the box, grinning at Quinn's giddiness. Inside I find a sketchbook. I open it and gasp at what I see. Almost every page is filled with hand drawn portraits of me. I look more carefully and notice that interspersed between her drawings of me, Quinn has recreated big moments for us in her drawings as well, adding quotes alongside a lot of the images.

There is a drawing of our first kiss on my birthday with a note written neatly that reads "_If Only_"

There's one of her holding a washcloth to my face. "_I Had Realized_"

A perfect recreation of our soft kiss the night we made up. "_That You_"

Quinn and I lying on the bed, her letter in my hand. "_Were Always"_

Me carrying Quinn up the stairs on my back. "_Really"_

I'm holding out a cellphone with a text from Finn on it. "_The Only"_

We're lying together naked, limbs tangled together. "_Choice_"

Quinn and I kneeling on her bed after our first real fight. "_For_"

We're lying in bed, my hand on her stomach. "_Me_."

I'm struck speechless for a few moments. My fingertips toy with the paper as I stare at the beautiful moment on the page before me. My heart feels so full that it actually hurts.

"This is amazing, Quinn. I mean, I knew you could draw, but…this is _so good_. Why haven't you shown me anything like this before?"

"Well, I used to doodle things when I was younger, but when I became Quinn I kind of stopped. I didn't want to seem like a weird, artsy kid I guess…"We both roll our eyes at that nugget of silliness, "…but after our kiss in July, drawing became a big outlet for me. There are some seriously depressing drawings from back then, but most of it I would draw and then destroy so that my parents wouldn't see. It would have been pretty clear that I was in love with you. I drew your face from memory, over and over. Then when things started happening between us, I started drawing you pretty much every day. It is an outlet for how overwhelmed I am by you."

Quinn shrugs her shoulders as if it's no big deal that she draws me every day and has for quite some time. I, on the other hand, am completely fixated on this information. I've never even seen this sketchbook before. How did she hide this from me when we spend so much time together? I realize that it doesn't matter. What matters is that she draws my face from _memory_.

"Overwhelmed by me?"

Quinn tilts her head to the side as she gazes at me, her expression indicating that I'm being extremely obtuse.

"Yes, Santana. You overwhelm me. You're kind of my everything, if you haven't noticed. When I'm not talking to you or touching you or looking at you, I'm _thinking _about doing those things. It's still scary, you know. Sometimes it feels like I love you too much for my own good. But—I can't change it, wouldn't want to if I could. Mostly I just want to be as good to you as you are to me."

I reach out and pull her hands into mine, running my thumbs over her knuckles. I know exactly how she feels, but I can't exactly just say "ditto" and call it even.

"Trust me, I understand perfectly. I've felt that way for a long time, it's just hard to imagine you feel that way about me. But this, Quinn," I hold up the sketch book, "this is so perfect and so touching and so amazing. Thank you, I love it."

"Look in the box again, doofus, there's more."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. _More than __**this**__?_

I reach into the box and pull out a plain black frame holding a perfectly centered piece of paper between two panes of glass. It's Quinn's letter to me that I told her I wanted to frame as a memento. Q reaches out and turns the frame over. She's used a fine point paint marker to write the date of our first night together at the top, our initials on the sides, and a quote at the bottom.

_November 14, 2009_

"_A Thousand Times Over"_

I'm speechless yet again. I wish I could just hang this on my wall, but right now I'm satisfied just because it _exists. _This thing between us is _real_, and I _LOVE_ this girl. I shake my head and look at her with teary eyes.

"_Thank you," _I whisper, my voice thick.

Quinn smiles and leans in to give me a long, unhurried kiss. I take a deep breath when we break apart and look up into her gorgeous green eyes.

"Ready to go downstairs and see what the real Santa brought us?" I ask her with a big smile.

* * *

Hours later, after all of the gifts are opened and brunch has been eaten, my mom insists Quinn and I get up from our very comfortable positions on the couch to take a family picture.

Dad sets up the tripod and the camera while Mom fixes up the tree behind us and tell me to zip my pajamas up because, and I quote, "no one wants to see my snow globes in a family photo."

Quinn laughs hysterically at that and gives my mom a little high five.

"Mom! They aren't even showing, you're just being crass. Besides, it's really hot in here," I whine at her with a pout.

"Okay, everyone get ready, I'm hitting the timer!" Dad looks at us to make sure we're ready before pushing the button and hopping around the camera to get into position.

The camera snaps before he even turns back around and I laugh. _False start #1._

After two more failures, Quinn offers to just take the picture of the three of us.

"What's the point of taking a family picture if the whole family isn't in it? Don't be silly, Quinn." Mom gives a dismissive wave of her hand as she responds. Dad finally gets the camera set again.

"Ready?"

"We've _been_ ready," I tell him.

"Okay, here we go."

He gets in position next to me. My parents are flanking Quinn and me, our arms around each other, linking the four of us together. Just before the photo snaps I feel Q give me a little squeeze and I grin a bit more broadly.

We crowd around my dad to look at the tiny screen on the back of the camera.

"I might be biased, but that is one damn good looking family," Mom states with a big smile.

* * *

**QUINN**

The Lopez trio and I are lying on couches and chairs, lounging as we watch the 23rd consecutive hour of _A Christmas Story_ on TBS. Santana has her head on her mom's lap and her feet on mine. She's looking at the ends of her hair and occasionally mouthing the words to the movie she's had memorized for years. She catches my eye and gives me a little wink and a smile, her eyes flickering up to her mother to see if she saw. Mrs. L looks absorbed in whatever book she's holding, her other hand absentmindedly scratching Santana's head. I'm pretty sure Santana is on the verge of purring based on the way she leans her head into the touch.

As the movie comes to an end, I see my surrogate parents exchange a meaningful glance and a nod. I narrow my eyes as I watch them, something is definitely up.

Mrs. L picks up San's head and moves it off of her lap before she gets up to go sit on the arm of the chair her husband is occupying. Santana doesn't seem bothered by the change, she just gathers her hair to the side and then laces her fingers behind her head, completely oblivious to whatever is developing with her parents. I flick her foot as hard as I can and she looks down her body at me with a curious expression on her face. I incline my head in the direction of her parents slightly, throwing my eyes in their direction and raising my eyebrow a tiny bit.

Santana tilts her head back and turns it to be able to see her parents sitting together. I see a frown flash across her features, and she pulls herself up to a seated position.

Mr. Lopez clears his throat.

"We, uh, we wanted to talk to you girls about something. We've been trying to decide when a, um…appropriate…time might be, but we ended up feeling like we should just come out with it instead of making it a whole big production."

"Kinda failing on that one, Dad. You're totally freaking me out," Santana says with an uncomfortable smile.

"Good point," he says, looking to his wife for help.

"What your dad is trying to say, uncharacteristically awkwardly, I might add, is that we wanted this conversation to happen of its own accord, without anyone forcing the issue. But we feel that it would do us all a lot of good to just get this out there, and we figured this could be a sort of Christmas present from us to you two."

In the slight pause that comes next, Santana and I exchange a loaded glance. Our eyes and expressions could not say _OH FUCK_ any more clearly.

"Girls, we know that you're in love with each other. It's been pretty clear to us for quite some time now. We just want you to know that you don't have to try to hide that from us anymore. I cannot even begin to express to either of you how very much we love you both. It doesn't matter to us who you love, as long as you're happy and treated well, and I know that you two will take care of each other through thick and thin. So please don't feel like you have to hide your love for each other, at least not in this house, okay?"

Mr. Lopez has been emphatically nodding along with his wife's words, looking between San and me.

For our part, the two of us are frozen in shock. When I can think at all I turn my eyes towards Santana. She's leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, looking at her hands. I see the tears start falling from her face, but she doesn't move. Her reaction freezes me once again, I want to reach for her but don't know if that's too much, too soon.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. I couldn't help it," she chokes out, clearly overwhelmed.

Mrs. L is on her feet in a second, kneeling in front of her daughter, cupping her face gently with both hands. Mr. Lopez gets up to sit next to Santana and wrap his arm around her.

"Oh honey, no. Don't be sorry. _I'm_ sorry that you feel like you need to apologize. You haven't done anything wrong. I've known you are gay for a long time, Santana, and I knew you fell for Quinn the first time you brought her home. _We love you._ No matter what."

Santana starts sobbing at that and falls into her mother's arms. I'm crying, but I'm still pinned to the couch, stunned by the events that have unfolded. I feel an inexplicable sense of shame, not because of what we've been doing, but because we've been _lying_.

Mrs. L puts an arm out towards me and waves me over to join the hug. I slide over next to Santana and she lifts her arm to fold me in next to her. We all hold each other until Santana and I finally stop crying. We all plop back on the couch, tired from all the tears. Mr. and Mrs. L lean against one another, and Santana and I tentatively link our hands together.

Santana sniffs and lets out a breathy little laugh.

"What's so funny, mija?"

She tilts her head in my direction.

"I mean, who _wouldn't_ go gay for this one?"


	21. Candor, Cake, and Conversation

**SANTANA**

Quinn's birthday is in a couple of days and then we're off to Nationals with the Cheerios. I'm out with my mom shopping for a gift for Q, who is hanging out with Brittany for the day. I know what I want to get her and don't waste any time, walking purposefully to the jewelry store.

"Whoa, Santanita, a little early on for jewelry, no?" Mom teases me.

"First of all, you know that I've been in love with this girl for over a year, so no, it's not "too early" for jewelry, _really_. And secondly, on the night Quinn went to the hospital I broke her necklace and I'd like to get her a new one."

Having my mom to talk to about my relationship with Quinn is awesome. Both of my parents have been amazing about this whole thing, they've just accepted that Quinn and I are in legitimate relationship as if it's the most normal thing in the world. We even got the lecture about having "relations" at appropriate times after my mom walked into the kitchen and saw me and Quinn making out pretty heavily.

"_Dios mío, girls!" _my mom had said, covering her eyes.

I'd jumped back from Quinn, who was sitting on the counter.

"_You have TWO bedrooms to do that in, could we not do that in the kitchen?"_

Quinn and I had immediately apologized and my mom had smiled at us broadly, looking kind of smug.

"_What's so funny, Mom?"_

"_I just won a bet with your father. He didn't think we'd catch you in flagrante delicto for at least two months and I said two weeks, tops."_

"Why did you break her necklace?" My mom brings me back from my thoughts.

"I was watching her struggle to breathe and I saw her chain with her cross on it, and I just…I got upset and I pulled it off her neck. I wanted to throw it. Instead, I wrapped it around my fingers and held her hand and prayed like all hell."

Mom nods with a contemplative look on her face.

"Are you mad at God, Santana?"

I'm taken aback by the question, uncertain how to answer. I guess I'm confused about my feelings towards God. And I'm not really sure why my mother is asking me this. I shrug.

"Not particularly, why?"

"Well, you said you wanted to throw the cross because you were upset."

Mom's voice is steady. She's not troubled, but I still can't get a good read on why this matters to her so much. I keep searching for the right chain for Q's cross as I contemplate my response.

"I mean, I thought Quinn was like, dying, right in front of me. I guess I knew deep down that passing out would be the best thing for her because she'd be able to breathe again, but it's still scary to watch, ya know? I'd just gotten her back, I couldn't imagine losing her. And Quinn, she _believes_. She really believes and is full of this faith that I actually kind of admire. I don't know, Mom. I love her so much. It's hard to watch her go through all of this and be so lost when she's such a better person than I am. So when I saw the chain on her neck I just felt like…I don't know. Like, 'where _**are**_You?' But I didn't throw the cross, I asked for help. And then I felt like my prayers were useless. So, to actually answer your question, I don't know. I'm not _angry_ with God. But I do struggle with whether He exists at all."

_Well shit. Didn't mean to say all that._

I turn my eyes back to my mother, worried that I'll see disappointment in her eyes. It's one thing to accept my orientation, it's another to accept that I'm borderline rejecting the religion I've been raised in.

I get another contemplative nod.

"What about this one, mija?"

She points to a thin gold chain in the display.

"That actually looks perfect."

Mom gets the attention of the salesman and buys the chain for me. We're back out into the mall, walking slowly together.

"Are you mad, Mom?

"No, Santana, I'm not mad. Being a parent is a difficult thing, because sometimes you have to watch your child struggle, and trust me, that is the hardest thing you will ever do. There's this instinctual desire to fix every problem for your baby, even though it's not possible."

She stops at a bench and sits down, patting the bench next to her. I sit and wait for her to continue.

"Your faith is your faith, Santana. I just don't want you to feel like you have to reject God because you are gay. I know what the Church teaches, and I obviously disagree vehemently. God made you as you are, and you are as perfect as any other child of His. I believe, very strongly, that there is more to this world than just people crashing into each other by chance. But no matter what you believe, you will always be my baby. I just want you to know that I'm here for you to talk to. You try _so hard_ to stand on your own feet and be independent, and I'm very proud of you for that, but please just always know that nothing you ever say will make me turn my back on you, okay?"

All I can do is nod, my throat tight with the tears I feel threatening. Mom loops her arm over my shoulders and pulls me close, kissing the side of my head. I give her a little half smile and we get up to start walking again.

We're almost to the car when we run into one of the many members of my father's extended family that live around Lima. I don't even know half of them. My mother exchanges pleasantries and I smile politely before grabbing my mom's keys and heading to the car.

When my mom climbs in the car she sighs.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Your cousin, Rosa. She's out of juvenile hall again."

"Uggghhh! I hate that bitch!" I can't control my immediate reaction.

"Santana," my mother says sternly, "do not be getting into any fights with her this time. I'm serious. I know she pushes your buttons for whatever reason, but she is not worth you getting into trouble. She just wants to drag you down with her."

"Mom, I don't _choose_ to fight her, she always forces the issue."

"Look at me, Santana. Ninguna lucha, verdad? No fighting. Protect yourself if need be, but just stay away from her and don't let her bait you. Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," I snark.

"And don't be a smart ass," my mom says, giving me a smile.

"Yes, ma'am."

My mother rolls her eyes and starts the drive home.

* * *

**QUINN**

I'm spending the day with Brittany and it has been hilariously awesome so far. We've never really had a chance to hang out without Santana, but I realize quickly why she and San are so close. Britt has a really interesting way of looking at things, it's like having a 4th dimension in a 3-D world. She sees this other level that most people would never consider.

"So, Quinnie the Pooh, I think I'm all shopped out. I think we can rule out any outdoor activities for the rest of the day, because it is way too cold for your baby to be outside. So we've got a few choice options. We can go see a movie, we can go home and watch a movie, or we can talk about your sex life with Santana. Personally, I'm up for anything. Your choice."

I laugh out loud at her third option and cover my face with my hand in mock embarrassment. We're leisurely walking to Brittany's car.

"Santana would kill me if I sat here and talked about our sexual activities, Britt."

"Well, Sanny isn't here, and I'm just kidding anyway. We can talk about your actual _relationship_ if you want. I know it's got to be hard not being able to talk about it ever."

She has a point there, sometimes the hardest part of our relationship is not being able to talk about this amazing girl that I get to call my own. Santana does the most incredible, sweetest things. I want to brag about how great she is all the time.

"What do you wanna know?" I ask.

"Whatever you want to tell me. When did you know that you loved her?"

"I knew I _loved _her back before freshman year, the day she told me her middle name. I knew I was _in love_ with her instant I kissed her on her birthday. Now can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!" Brittany responds brightly.

"Why did _you_ kiss her that night?" I ask slowly.

Britt looks at me, surprised. She turns her eyes away from me when she responds.

"How did you know I kissed her?"

"I saw you two in her room."

"Is that why you got so upset at her that night?"

I look at my tall blonde friend. She's being evasive, in a way I've never seen her act before.

"Yes," I tell her honestly, "I didn't know how to react to it because I didn't understand my own feelings for Santana yet."

Brittany nods, still quiet for a moment.

"I…liked her. Santana is like…a love ninja. She can make you fall in love with her 1000 different ways before you ever see her coming. I knew she loved you, but I wasn't sure you'd ever feel the same way, and I thought maybe I could get her to like me back. By the time Santana got back from chasing you down, though, I knew it was a lost cause. At that point I tried to just be her friend and eventually things kind of just happened between us."

I feel Britt's eyes on me, studying my reaction to her admission. I give her a slow nod as I think it over.

"I can understand that. I obviously know how easy it is to fall in love with her."

Brittany smiles at that.

"Yes, you certainly do. I gotta say though, I understand why she fell for you so quickly."

I give her a sideways look and a humorless laugh.

"I'm glad you get it, because I sure don't. Santana deserves to be sainted for taking me on, for taking all of this on. She's 15 and her girlfriend is pregnant with her ex-boyfriend's baby. I can't understand for one moment why she ever let me back in her life."

"She's been in love with you for a lot longer than all of this has been going on, Quinn. I can't really imagine a scenario in which she _wouldn't_ have taken you back. Everything she has done since the beginning has been a result of how much she loves you, especially since July. _Everything _she has done since her birthday has been driven by you."

I consider this, and realize Britt probably has the answers to a lot of questions I've had.

"Interesting you should say that. Santana once told me she tried to protect me without me knowing. Do you know what she was referring to?"

We make it to Brittany's car and she opens the doors for us to get in.

"I know some of it," she says as she starts the car.

I wait for her to continue, but she doesn't.

"Can you tell me?"

"Have you asked Santana to tell you?" Brittany answers my question with a question.

I am quiet. I haven't asked San, because part of me is afraid to ask her. I don't know why. Maybe because I'm afraid to know the lengths to which Santana went for me while I refused to acknowledge her existence.

"I haven't, no."

"She might be the one to ask, then. I can tell you that even as she kept you at arm's length, Santana was using her other arm to protect you from everyone else."

I mull that over for a bit. I decide to tell Britt the truth.

"I'm kind of afraid to ask her. I don't know exactly why though."

"Can I ask you something? I mean, of course I can. I'll just ask. Why did you sleep with Puck?"

Something about Brittany's tone of voice pulls me up. Almost like she _knows_ why I slept with Puck.

"Why do you think?" I ask her in return.

"I thought so. And I think that's why you're so afraid. But you should talk to Santana about this, really. It might be a little hard for you guys to get through that conversation, but you'll get there. You're both like CB trucker radios, you've gotta keep messing with the channels until you can hear and understand each other. You guys always find the right channel eventually though."

I smile and shake my head.

"Yeah, we do."

* * *

**SANTANA**

We're having a family dinner for Quinn's birthday. Mom and I made dinner and Dad picked up an ice cream cake. I have Q's wrapped gift sitting on the counter next to a gift from my parents. I managed to find her broken chain and cross so that her wrapped jewelry box contains her complete necklace. It actually wasn't that difficult at all to find since Quinn is probably the neatest human being on earth. She's like allergic to messes or something.

"Who's ready for cake?" Mom asks excitedly. Clearly, _she's_ ready.

We all raise our hands like over anxious schoolchildren and Mom laughs as she gets up to get the cake from the freezer. My dad follows after her to bring Q's gifts in to the dining room. While we have a second alone I pick up Quinn's hand and kiss the back of it gently.

"Happy 16th Birthday, Quinn."

I get a big smile in return and a slight squeeze of my hand.

"Thanks, love. Best birthday ever."

My parents come in and start singing "Happy Birthday." In true Lopez fashion, we intentionally butcher the song. We sing completely different verses, we sing in English and Spanish, we draw out the song as long as possible. Quinn's laugh is so adorable.

We applaud ourselves and Q joins in enthusiastically. Mom gives us all slices of cake and we dive in as if we'll never see ice cream again.

"So Quinn, how does it feel to be 16?" My dad asks literally the most overused birthday question of all time.

I roll my eyes, but Quinn smiles.

"Great actually, because now I'm officially allowed to drive by myself. Unlike _some_ people who have to wait another 6 months."

"Low blow, Fabray! Are pregnant girls even allowed to drive?" I snark back at her.

"Santana!" Mom looks at me disapprovingly.

"No! I didn't mean it like that! Quinn, I didn't mean it like that," I say, turning to my girlfriend.

"I know, love," she responds, giving me a little smile.

"Still, be nice Santana," my mother orders.

"God, Mom. I wasn't being a jerk. I'm actually concerned. Dora prob—the _baby_ probably wouldn't do well if an airbag deployed or something."

Quinn looks up at me. We've kept our nickname for our little kicker between us. Not because it was a secret really, but because it was just something with us.

"Did you just call the baby _Dora_?" Mom's mouth is actually hanging open. She glances at my father, who is still stuffing his face with cake but stops when my mom's eyes meet his.

"Um, yeah." I say lamely.

"Like…_Dora the Explorer_?" The horror in my mother's voice is evident, and I almost laugh at loud.

"No! Jeez, why would you assume that? Like, pateadora. She's a little kicker."

It seems obvious to me, but even Quinn has a little playful smile on her face.

"Aw honey, that's cute," Mom says in a sweet voice before adding, very seriously, "but you can't call that baby Dora. That's legitimately awful and just invites terrible comparisons."

I roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised they don't fall out of my head.

"We weren't going to _name_ her that. It's just a nickname so that we don't have to call her "the baby" or "she" or—earmuffs Quinn—"that thing from Alien that comes bursting out of the dude's chest."

"_Excuse_ _me_? When exactly have you called my baby the monster from Alien?" Quinn looks incredulous.

"Pretty much every single time Dora came up in conversation prior to you and me making up. Either that or "demon spawn," "the kid from the Omen," "Rosemary's baby," and, my personal favorite, simply "It."

Quinn's eyes are closed and I can see her shoulders shake with laughter as she slowly shakes her head. My parents look at me in mock disapproval and roll their eyes. I shrug my shoulders.

"Okay, _Dora_ is better than all of those names, but it's still gotta go, mija. That little cartooned walking stereotype cannot share a name with the beautiful little girl hanging out with Quinn for the next 4 months."

I sigh heavily. I'm going to lose this battle.

"Fine, _Mom_. What do _you_ think we should call her?"

"I think you should call her Diabla Junior…DJ," my father interjects between bites of what must be his 3rd piece of cake.

"Dad, cake much?" I ask in horror.

"It's melting!" Dad protests.

"That's perfect!" Quinn and my mom yell together.

I look at them in confusion.

"What is?"

"DJ! Diabla Junior!" Q exclaims. "Sheer genius, Papa Lopez."

"Happy to be of service, favorite daughter," Dad replies to Quinn while looking at me smugly.

My mother laughs and claps her hands at the look on my face.

_Are these people serious?_

"Quinn, you're not seriously going to call her DJ, are you? Remember how hard it was to get me to admit to my middle name?"

Q gives me a little mocking pout, then gets up and moves behind me, her arms wrapping loosely around my neck in a gentle hug.

"Honestly, Diabla Senior, I don't see why. It's so…_fitting_." Quinn plops a big wet kiss on my cheek and laughs. "Besides, San, it's just a placeholder name, remember?"

I can't help but smile. I might not love having my nickname so completely shot down, but I _do _love having the little kicker named after me. She's not mine, but she is.

_Oh how I love that little girl._

* * *

**QUINN**

"Thank you for my present, love. It feels good to have my cross around my neck again."

"Yeah well, had I known my parents were going to give you a Jeep, I probably would have gone for something much bigger," Santana grumbles.

"San…stop. They didn't outdo your gift, although I obviously love the Jeep. I know you have doubts about God and all that, so it means a lot to me that you still support my beliefs. Everything you do means a little bit more to me just because it's _you._ So stop being a baby and come cuddle me and little DJ."

Santana rolls her eyes but complies, climbing in behind me and wrapping her arm around to place her hand on my stomach.

"Is she busy tonight?" San asks into my hair.

"She's been rolling around a bit."

I pick up Santana's hand and move it to where I think DJ's feet are.

"I'd be rolling around too if I found out my mom just got a bad ass Jeep to roll around town in."

"For crying out loud Santana! Stop. Honestly, the first thing I thought of when they showed me the damn thing was '_I can't wait to get Santana into the back seat of this thing._' So I promise you, this will be good for _both _of us."

Santana is quiet for a few moments save for her steady breathing.

"Just…w_anky._"

I can't help but snicker at that, then turn to give my _hilarious_ girlfriend a good night kiss.

"Good night, pretty lady," Santana says when I roll back over.

"Good night, love," I respond.

I start to doze off in my favorite comforting embrace when I hear Santana whisper into the darkness.

"_Good night, DJ._"

I fall asleep with a smile on my face.


	22. We're Going Down In An Earlier Round

**A/N: Reviewers, followers. readers: you are all awesome. Every single one of you. Online high five.**

* * *

**QUINN**

We've arrived in Albuquerque, New Mexico for Nationals. Since Santana is the team captain, she made the room list for the hotel, which means we get to spend 3 nights alone together in a hotel room. At this rate, I'm not sure how much good it will do, though. Things have been a little tense between us, over Brittany of all things.

Britt is staying right next door to us with a junior named Jess, per her request. Santana had raised her eyebrows when Brittany asked her, but didn't comment. If I didn't know her so well, I wouldn't even have seen the flash of discomfort in her features when the request was made. Later, when were alone, Santana asked me if I knew anything about Jess and Britt.

"_No, why?_" I'd responded.

"_I just…do you think they're like, together?"_

"_I don't know, I doubt it," _I'd said with a shrug.

"_I mean, don't you think that's something we should know, as her friends?"_ Santana had asked, apparently annoyed with my response.

"_I'm sure she would have told us if she was dating Jess, love._"

"_I guess,_" my girlfriend's distracted response had finally caught my full attention.

"_What's the matter? Are you jealous or something?_" I'd accused, feeling my own jealousy burn in the pit of my stomach.

"_Don't be stupid, Quinn._" Santana's answering sigh had done nothing to calm me down.

"_You've got to be kidding me. You're unbelievable, Santana Lopez._"

I'd stormed out of her room to my own, slamming the door behind me. We've so rarely fought that I wasn't really sure what to do with myself when I got there. I ended up just packing my things, getting angrier with every minute that she didn't come and answer my simple question.

When we'd gotten to the airport she had wordlessly picked up my bag with hers as she directed the rest of the team in the right direction. She'd done the same when we arrived in Albuquerque, effortlessly tossing my bag over her shoulder.

Now I'm waiting for our room keys to get handed out, and I'm kind of dreading getting up into a quiet room with Santana. I don't have the energy to fight with her, nor do I think I owe her anything at this point.

Santana walks over to me, holding our room keys. She regards me hesitantly for a moment, then once again picks up my bag and her own. Without a word, she nods her head towards the elevators to indicate that I should follow her as she walks in their direction.

I'm even more infuriated by her silence, but without any options, I follow her. We ride an elevator crowded with Cheerios to our floor, a pronounced distance between us. I realize halfway up that the previously boisterous crowd of soon-to-be National champs matches our silence. I wonder if they've sensed the Cold War standoff between their current and former captain. I'm surprised that my girlfriend, natural leader that she is, hasn't sensed this awkwardness and done something about it. With a reluctant sigh, I decide to step up.

"Hey guys, have fun, but make sure you don't get too crazy tonight. I know tomorrow is just a practice day, but we need to be sharp, okay? By the end of the weekend we'll be champions again and we can celebrate all we want."

The other Cheerios on the elevator all nod their agreement, smiling before getting off at the floor we've all occupied. Santana gets off too, leading me towards our room. She glances at me as she pushes the door open and steps aside to let me in first.

I don't look at her at all as I walk into the room and immediately sit down on the edge of the bed furthest from the door, looking down at my nails. I hear my and Santana's bags thump onto the floor and before I know it, my girlfriend is kneeling in front of me.

"I want to be with _you_, Quinn. How can you even doubt that? Have I not shown you how much I love you? Have I not told you enough? What do I need to do to prove my love to you?" Santana's eyes are intense, studying my face urgently.

I'm stunned by her sudden presence in front of me and by her rapid fire questions.

"Why didn't you just say "no" when I asked if you were jealous?"

"Because I shouldn't even have to answer that question, Q!" I can feel her frustration in her tone, but she's still right here in front of me.

"You were acting weird about Brittany possibly being with Jess. I'm sorry if that's not supposed to bother me, but she is special to you, Santana! Plus, have you seen her lately? Kind of a more attractive option than me and my 19 weeks pregnant body. I'm not saying you don't love me, I'm just saying maybe you love her too. And she'd be a better option right now…" I trail off, not wanting to expose the thickness to my voice that only comes when I'm about to cry.

I'm looking up and away from this perfect physical specimen in front of me. I'm not even sure why I'm still angry with her, but I feel like momentum is just carrying me forward now. Santana's hands come up to rest on my thighs and she angles her head to look me in the eye. When I finally meet her eyes I see them shifting between love, pain, and anger.

"Fucking Christ, Quinn. Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to hear you say that? Have I _ever _done _anything _to indicate that I think you are less than fucking _perfect? _I don't know what you _want_ from me. Tell me, please. Am I not showing you enough? Seriously, I want to know what the _fuck_ you want from me!"

My angry tears spill over.

"I don't KNOW, Santana! I don't fucking know, _okay_? All I know is that you are perfect and the thought of you wanting someone else destroys me, literally fucking destroys me! You have no _idea_ what it feels like to be afraid of losing you."

Santana stands up and leans down, bringing her face to within inches of mine.

"I. Don't. Want. Any. One. Else. Quinn. Just you. Always you."

Santana's words are still hard, but her eyes are the softest, deepest brown. Without thinking I lunge up to press our lips together as hard as I possibly can.

My beautiful, magical Latina meets me and then some, leaning down to kiss me with intensity, almost harshly.

After a second Santana steps back from me and starts yanking off her travel sweats. She naked in mere moments, reaching immediately to pull me up and start stripping me as well. I wake up suddenly and help her remove my clothes hurriedly.

The instant my last article of clothing hits the floor, Santana kisses me and reaches down to pick me up. I instinctively wrap my arms around her neck and hook my feet together around her back. She shocks me again with the ease with which she holds me up as her mouth works fervently against mine.

She turns and takes three steps to press my back solidly against the nearest wall. I gasp and then move may hands to her face to kiss her more fully. Santana leans into my kiss, the majority of my weight supported now by her hips and the wall. My hands slide down until my forearms rest across her shoulders and the kiss slows down marginally.

"I fucking love you so much, Santana Lopez. _So fucking much_."

I whisper my love against her lips, and San brings one hand up to grip the back of my neck and pull my mouth to hers once again.

It's a deep, intense kiss. Her tongue slides into my mouth effortlessly and I welcome her with my own. I let her dictate the speed and depth of the kiss, submitting to her, offering everything I am in this gesture.

Santana grips beneath my legs again and pulls me away from the wall, dropping me hurriedly onto the bed and climbing over me in the very next instant. She looks down into my eyes.

"I love you too, Quinn. Don't ever question that."

"Okay, babe. I'm sorry…"

I finally see a little smile on Santana's lips.

* * *

**SANTANA**

"Don't be an idiot, Fabray."

Quinn gives me one of her brilliant, megawatt smiles.

"Can you do something for me, love?" she asks me sweetly.

"_Anything_," I tell her honestly.

"Fuck me? Please?"

I close my eyes at the shiver her words send through my body. Heat floods between my legs and I know I'm dripping with arousal.

_My girlfriend is the sexiest bitch on earth._

"I suppose, since you said _please_," I tell her smugly.

I don't want to waste time. I'm sure she's as ready as I am, so I immediately bring my hand down to her inner thigh. My fingers graze her wet lower lips and I smile at her sharp intake of breath.

Quinn meets my eyes and I position myself carefully above her, careful to avoid the DJ bump. I lean down and kiss her as I slide my fingers along her slit. I love this feeling, the realization that _I_ do this to her, _I_ cause her to be so wet and ready. I slide a finger inside her and smile against her mouth when she gasps.

I pull it in and out a few times, moving my finger in wider and wider circles. Quinn's body shudders beneath me.

"_More, baby._" Quinn moans loudly.

Again her words send heat through my body and I don't hesitate to oblige her, slipping another finger inside her. Q bucks against my hand, taking me even deeper.

I set a quick rhythm, my palm slapping against her clit as I pound my fingers inside her over and over again. Quinn is lost in the moment, her hand comes up to grip my shoulder tightly and her legs spread ever wider as I work her up.

It doesn't take long to push her over the edge, and I am overcome with the incomparable vision of Quinn in the throes of orgasm. Her teeth bite down hard on her lower lip, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. I watch as her back arches slightly up off of the bed, all of her muscles taut and flexed. It's the most incredible, sexiest thing I've ever seen.

I watch her relax and slowly come down, releasing this soft, breathy sigh that washes through me. I slide my fingers out of her gently. Quinn's eyes open and focus on me as I bring my wet fingers to my mouth and slowly wrap my lips around them. Q's eyes widen as I suck her wetness off my own digits, releasing them with an exaggerated pop.

Quinn reaches up to pull me down for a deep kiss.

"Straddle my face," she says to me when the kiss is broken.

"What?" I'm taken by surprise.

We've moved kind of slow in trying new positions since we're both new to this and, quite simply, have been enjoying figuring out each other's bodies. We've never done this one, but Quinn has that determined glint in her eye that I know so well. She's gonna get her way, one way or another.

"Come on baby, I want you to ride my face."

I suck in a short breath. She's so fucking hot, particularly when it comes to sex.

_The chastity princess is no more._

"As you wish, princess." I smirk at her.

I plant a little kiss on her lips and then move myself into the requested position. I look down and see Quinn smile at me before pulling my hips down and sliding her tongue slowly along my slit.

A shiver shoots through my whole body.

* * *

**QUINN**

I love the taste of Santana.

It used to surprise me how much I enjoyed going down on her, but now it seems as if this is something I was always meant to do. I can't think of anything better than when my tongue touches a sensitive spot and I get to see the involuntary reactions it causes in San's beautiful, lithe body.

My hands run up and down Santana's thighs as I run my tongue through her wetness to suck lightly on sensitive clit. She squirms slightly above me and presses her palms on headboard.

"_Fuck. Oh fuck Quinn."_

I smile and increase the pressure and pace of my tongue as I pull on her small bundle of nerves sliding my tongue back down and slipping it inside my fucking sexy girlfriend.

"_Oh shit baby yeah."_

Santana has incredible Latin rhythm, and she rocks her hips gently while I glide my tongue around inside her. It's so hot, but when San opens her eyes and glances down to make eye contact with me, it's legitimately the hottest fucking thing in the world.

I move my hand from her hip to press my thumb to her clit and she bucks against my hand. I don't waste time, just as she didn't waste time with me, immediately pressing down hard and rubbing vigorously. San's body responds right away, I can see her muscles tighten in response to my touch and she reaches down to grab a handful of my hair.

"_Just like that Q. I'm so close."_

I work on her fervently, I can't wait to see her come undone. She tightens her grip on my hair before leaning her whole body forward against the headboard.

Santana's eyes are close tightly and she's whimpering with her sexy rasp and I'm just overcome by her.

Her abs tighten visibly and her thighs quiver and then she's shaking against my tongue and my thumb, coming hard with a loud _FUCK._ I continue to lick at her entrance, enjoying the taste of her and resulting wetness from her orgasm.

Eventually she shifts and moves down the bed to lie next to me. Santana wraps herself around me and tilts her head up to give me a soft kiss. She smiles lightly at the taste of herself and hums a little against my lips.

"Maybe we should fight more often," Santana whispers with a little laugh.

I laugh in return.

"Can we pretend fight instead?" I ask her.

"Good idea, pretty lady. Much less stressful."

"Yes, _much_ less stressful."

* * *

**SANTANA**

We are fucking NATIONAL CHAMPIONS, BABY!

I knew we won it as soon as I got flipped up on top of the pyramid for our cheer portion. We were perfect to that point, and it just felt like we were destined to win. I knew we were going to finish perfect.

Once we finished our routine I'd sprinted to Quinn and picked her up in a huge hug as our teammates celebrated around us. I didn't think about anyone or anything but wrapping my arms around my girl. It was the best hug of my life.

Watching my team celebrate after we were announced as champions once again was a beautiful thing. I'd jumped up and wrapped myself around Brittany joyfully before being wrapped in a three way hug with the Unholy Trinity. Everything felt perfect. We _deserved _to have things go right for us.

As the captain, I'd had the gigantic trophy handed to me first. It took every ounce of my strength to raise it up even slightly over my head. It was awesome, but it even better when I got to hand it off to Coach.

Sue gave me an undeniably proud nod of her head as she accepted it and I just knew that was the closest thing I was going to get to actual respect from her. It was enough really.

We're on the flight back home now, our humongous trophy taking up entire overhead bin by itself. Sorry we're not sorry, fellow travelers.

Quinn is sitting next to me. We have the arm rest up and we're covered in a light blanket. Quinn's hand is intertwined with mine under the blanket.

I couldn't ask for anything more than this.


	23. Come and Take It

**A/N: Just a heads up that there is quite a bit of nasty language and some violence in this chapter. If this is an issue for you, please feel free to PM me and I'll give you a summary of what happens in the chapter.**

**A/N 2: I'm just going to keep thanking you guys for being so supportive and awesome and for reading this story. Your reviews have been so kind. Happy Hump Day, y'all.**

* * *

**QUINN**

So much for "pretend" fighting instead of really fighting. Santana and I aren't speaking to each other and honestly that's fine with me. I love her, Lord knows how much I love that girl, but she can be so rude and insensitive. I'm actually less concerned with her bitchy comment than I am about the fact that she hasn't seen the need to apologize for it yet. Usually Santana knows when she crosses a line and does her best to fix things, but when I called her out this time she just looked away and shook her head, as if being called "teen mom" by your girlfriend is totally normal.

We're sitting next to each other in yet another class and I can actually feel the heat radiating off of her. Calling Santana "fiery" is not just apt when it comes to her temper, she _actually_ heats up when she's angry or worked up over something. And not just your normal, "body temperature rising in conflict" kind of warmth, Santana gets borderline feverishly hot. At first I thought it was kind of cool, because it's so unique to her and tends to pass quickly, but now it actually has me worried. I've rarely had Santana angry enough with me that she gets like this, for one, and for another, our little disagreement was hours ago, before third period. There is no way it's healthy to basically run a temperature for hours just because your girlfriend snapped at you.

I bite back my instinct to try to calm her down. _She_ caused this, and I'll be damned if I'm going to be the one soothing her when _I'm_ the one who was treated poorly. I can't help but cast a sideways glance at her though. I'm not surprised that she has her face turned slightly away from me, but I _am_ surprised to notice that she's quivering slightly. My mind is racing now. This can't be about me, she's actually _vibrating _with rage. I've seen Santana's temper more than most, but this is different.

I raise my hand and wave it a little until our brain dead math teacher notices me.

"Yes, Miss Fabray?"

"I'm not feeling well, can I please go to the nurse?" I lie smoothly.

"Sure-"

"Actually, would it be okay if Santana escorted me? I'm feeling really lightheaded."

Santana closes her eyes briefly and her jaw flexes, but still keeps her face angled away from me.

"I suppose."

We're dismissed without a second thought and I can't help but roll my eyes at the indifference from our teacher. I know it's because I'm pregnant and San is a Cheerio and can basically do whatever she wants, but a little effort wouldn't hurt the guy. He didn't even look up at us once he saw my hand up. Whatever.

Santana gathers her things and reaches down to grab my bag, as well. I know she'll claim she was just playing the part of helping me, but I know San is secretly very chivalrous. Still, her movements are jerky and irritated, and she basically snatches the rest of my things up before leading the way out the door. She waits for me to fall in on her left before she starts towards the nurse's office.

I can't help but notice the way she slants her body slightly away from me as we walk down the hall in silence until I see the nearest bathroom and basically push her in.

"What the fuck, Quinn?"

Santana's voice holds an edge I haven't heard since before we made up, and I can't help but flinch slightly. I don't think she sees it though, because she's turned her face away from me yet again. She's pressed her back against the wall, with her head turned to the right. Her chin is canted upwards, and I can tell she's looking at the ceiling. Santana is clearly trying to control her temper right now and it has me completely bewildered.

"I'm worried. What's going on?" I ask, trying not to sound too concerned since I'm still angry at her for earlier.

"Who said something is going on? I'm fine. Can we go back to class now?"

The harsh bite to her voice cuts through me, but I refuse to let her see that. This is not my Santana. I don't know who this is.

"Why won't you look at me if everything is _fine_?"

Silence.

"All you had to do was apologize Santana, I don't know why this has become such a big deal. I'm not even that mad-"

"Get over yourself, Quinn, not everything is about you."

I feel anger flash through my whole body.

"Then what is it about, Santana? I know you're not on the rag, so what possible explanation do you have for being such a raging bitch?"

Santana sets her jaw, her nostrils flaring. She drops my bag to the floor and holds my notebook out to me. When I don't take it, she opens her hand and lets it drop, papers sliding out all over the place. My fists are clenched at my side, but I refuse to give her a reaction. She turns her head slightly, pinning me with a vicious glare with her left eye before slowly, almost mechanically, turning her head to fully face me.

I can't help the gasp that falls from my lips. Santana's right eye, cheek, and lip are swollen and bruised. There is a small split that runs vertically across both her lips. I instantly reach out to her, but she recoils from my touch and pushes my hands away. It feels like she's stabbed me with her rejection.

"THIS is my explanation. Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted to see? Grow the fuck up, _Lucy_. You really think every fucking thing is about you and it's fucking ridiculous. So I'm gonna go now, because I can feel myself wanting to really flip out and that won't help anything. I'll see you later," Santana pauses ever so briefly at the door, but doesn't look back at me when she whispers, "I love you."

She's out the door a second later. I just stand there, feeling frantic and horrified. All I can hear in my head is her pained, desperate voice whispering _I love you _as if none of what she'd just said was really meant for me. All I can see is the fresh damage to her perfect face.

In a sudden, instantaneous flash I am enraged. I quickly snatch up all of my stuff and stomp out of the bathroom on a mission. I know where Santana would normally go, and she knows I know, so she won't go there. I'm not looking for her right now though, so it doesn't matter. I go instead to the dumpsters by the buses and spot the stupid mohawk I'm searching for.

"Puck."

"Hey baby momma. Finally figure out that I'm the guy for you?"

I grit my teeth at his stupid nickname for me and even more stupid question.

"I need your help, someone hit Santana."

I'm surprised to hear that my voice is calm and cold.

"Whoa, what? Like actually hit her? Why?"

"Yes, actually hit her. And I don't know why, but her face is badly bruised and she's just, she's..."

The sobs finally start and I can't finish what I'm saying. Puck quickly pulls me into his arms.

"Don't worry, Quinn. I'll take care of it. It's okay."

"I don't know what to do. I need to find her but she won't talk to me."

"Listen to me, ok? Text Brittany and go find Santana. I'll find out what the hell happened and beat someone's ass if I have to. Just make sure Santana is okay, alright Quinn? I'll text you as soon as I know anything. Now hurry up and get inside, it's cold out here."

Puck leads me to the door and opens it for me. I pause and look back at him.

"Thanks, Noah."

"Of course."

* * *

**SANTANA**

Just Prior to 2nd Period

"Look at this arrogant bitch. Someone forgot where they came from."

I hesitate for a second. _Keep walking. Keep walking, Santana. _I take one step forward.

"That's right. Don't even bother, _Santanita_."

Annnnnd that's it. Fuck this bitch. I turn around and march right back.

"Holy shit, sorry, didn't think I could _possibly_ be hearing your voice. It's hard to believe you're even in school. How was your last stint in juvie? You sure are well on your way to being just another Adjacent resident for life. Estoy tan orgulloso de ti, _prima_."

The cretin I'm looking at is a cousin, somehow. I don't even know how exactly we're related, but we spent much of our childhood playing in the dirt together. At least, until she decided girls are supposed to watch sports, not play them, and I moved on up out of the dump known as Lima Heights Adjacent. For some reason there is animosity amongst our extended family towards my parents and me for moving out of the ghetto to a nicer neighborhood. Some people are proud, some are assholes. She's one of the assholes. It's just the way things are.

Unfortunately, this won't be the first time I've had words with this particular bitch. She's practically green with envy and is always looking for ways to tear me down. We go at it pretty much every time she manages to be released from kiddie jail.

"You better watch your mouth, puta. You're a little smart ass, but you don't have the muscle to back it up. I'll drop you so fast you won't even know what hit you."

I bark out a harsh laugh.

"I might not be as thick as you, Rosa, but I guarantee I've got all the muscle I need. Fortunately, my _smart_ ass also knows that beating your _fat_ ass would be kind of stupid, seeing as I actually have a future."

I turn to walk away, feeling smug.

"Yeah, a future playing house with your knocked up little white girlfriend. Shoulda known you were a dyke when we were kids."

I fix my indifferent mask on my face before turning back around.

"That was weak, even for you. Still pissed that your boyfriend tried to get with me, huh? You know I wouldn't touch that ugly mug of his with a 10 foot pole, no need to feel so threatened."

I strut away, acting completely unaffected. My gut is churning though, I'm a little worried I'm going to puke. I take a deep breath and hurry to class.

* * *

Just Prior to 3rd Period

I've spent the entire last class mulling over what my asshole cousin said. She's a bitch, but generally dismissed by everyone since she's in and out of juvenile hall all the time. I try to remember if anyone that actually matters was there to hear her accusation about Quinn and me. I'm walking on autopilot to meet Q at her locker, arriving unceremoniously and leaning on the wall next to her.

"Hey! There you are, I missed you before 2nd." Quinn looks positively overjoyed to see me.

"Calm down, teen mom. I got a little busy."

Ugh. That was a dick thing to say. Quinn's face shows her shock and hurt. I glance away from her, stealing myself to apologize. My bad mood isn't her fault, after all. Out of the corner of my eye I see my cousin looking at me with her eyebrow raised and lose my train of thought. I shake my head and bring my eyes back to Quinn, who is looking at me expectantly.

"Jesus, Santana. Could you be a bigger bitch?"

She waits another second and then storms away from me. I want to follow her, but I feel Rosa's eyes on me and stay rooted in place.

When Quinn is out of sight, I stride over to my cousin, my eyes fixed on hers in an angry glare.

"Oh I'm the lesbian? Last time I checked, _you're_ the one staring at _me_. Which is honestly even creepier because we're _related_. Stop looking at me you fucking freak."

She steps at me and I lean forward to emphasize how little of a fuck I give. I tense, ready for her to throw down.

"Hey, both of you knock it off and get to class," Mr. Schue says, stepping between us.

My cousin gives me a little sneer, then walks off. I breathe out a small sigh of relief. I'll go toe to toe with anyone if needed, but I definitely would rather not.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue."

"Is everything okay, Santana?"

I don't know what to say to him. I normally would say yes without hesitation, but right now I'm feeling like nothing is okay. Too bad I can't tell him any of the things that are so totally wrong.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I'll see you at Glee."

I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away, surely worrying about who I'll tear down later as a result of my bad mood.

* * *

Just Prior to 5th Period

I'm in the Cheerios locker room, getting changed to go for a short run during my lunch hour. I need to apologize to Quinn, but first I need to blow off some steam and work through my thoughts. I've discovered that running is one of the best mediums for me to release the tension that tends to build up inside of me.

It is cold out, but I head to the track and plug my headphones in. I start slow, but quickly find a steady pace, letting the music wash through me as I circle around for another lap. I'm oblivious of everything except my feet pounding on the ground, the cold air rushing in and out of my lungs, and my music—until I spot them.

_FUCK._

My mother's voice rings in my head.

"_Look at me, Santana. Ninguna lucha, verdad? No fighting. Protect yourself if need be, but just stay away from her and don't let her bait you. Am I clear?"_

I slow down and consider my options. I could outrun them, go straight for the school. It's not that far and I know I'm faster than all of these bitches. But if I run, it'll be open season. I'm better off standing my ground and fighting, even if I lose. In Adjacent, cowardice is worse than dying, and those are the rules we're playing by right now. I might not live there anymore, but it's in my blood, and I know they expect me to step up. So I do.

I start walking, steeling myself for whatever is about to come.

"So this is how you want to do this? You and four friends against one cheerleader? That's impressive, prima. I'm sure this will go over real well back en el barrio cuando mi abuela hears about it."

My mom's mother is a mean bitch. Toughest bitch I know. Everyone in the neighborhood knows who she is and respects her. My father's family is larger, but my mom's carries more clout. It's a well-known fact that, as the oldest grandchild, I am my abuela's favorite. Fighting me is one thing, fighting me 5 to 1 is another.

Calling my cousin on this is my only chance to even the odds, and I feel a glimmer of hope when I see her flinch slightly. I'm right, and she knows it.

"Nah cuz, están aquí sólo para el show. But we don't even have to fight, little Diabla. Just admit that you're a dirty fucking _maricóna_ and that you're fucking that uppity _puta_, and I'll walk away."

I laugh, even though I feel like crying.

"Forgetting the fact that you're so completely wrong, why the fuck do you care so much? You're awfully hung up on who I'm sleeping with and it's starting to really creep me the fuck out."

I know before I finish saying it that I've just guaranteed a fight. This bitch is clearly homophobic, and I've now accused her of being gay twice. Rosa's eyes narrow and darken, her lips pulled into a sneer. _Damn it, Santana._

"I just want to make sure la familia knows about you so that they can disown the dirty dyke that claims our name."

I feel myself flinch internally, but I know my eyes are cold and lifeless, revealing nothing.

"And what? You're going to try to beat a confession out of me if I refuse to "admit" to being gay? That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard. Makes sense coming from you though. So let's do this. Ready whenever you are, you lazy, delinquent, _pathetic_ fat bitch."

I put my arms out wide and make the "come at me" gesture with my hands. I need her to come after me, I need her to lose control so that I can take advantage of her bullish attack. She's been in more fights than me, but I'm still smarter. I know I need to keep my head.

"I'm going to knock your fucking teeth out. And then I'm going to drag your rich whore girlfriend out to this field next to you and bring her down a peg or two. With a little luck, maybe that little bastard she's carrying will be as brain dead as you are."

Cold fury washes through me and I lunge at her, throwing a wild punch that grazes her chin. Rosa leans back to avoid my fist, leaving her slightly off balance. I grab her jacket with my right hand and start raining punches with my left.

_She's forgotten that I'm a leftie._

My cousin is covering her face with her arms, but she sets her defense as if my punches will come from the right. I get a couple of solid shots in before she reaches a hand out to grab me, using her body weight to drag me to the ground by my sweatshirt.

Wild slaps and punches fly between us. All I can think is _don't let her get above you. _Rosa is definitely heavier than me and has no problem yanking my smaller frame down every time I get into a position where I can actually hit her with force.

She almost gets above me twice before I'm able to brace myself above her and throw punches as hard as I can. She blocks my fists from fully connecting a couple of times, but eventually two punches land right in a row. She howls in pain and blood flies from her nose. I raise my fist up to hit her again, but instead I stop and shove myself off of her to sit on my butt, holding my knees and catching my breath.

Rosa is kicking her legs and crying. I want to laugh at the big tough juvie bitch _crying_, but I'm too exhausted. I look up at her idiotic, skanky friends and notice they look dumbstruck. That does make me laugh a little and I shake my head as I start to get up.

All at once I feel a blinding pain in my side and I register that one of these stupid bitches kicked me straight in the ribs. I end up on all fours and gasp for a second before another blow lands against my side and I instinctively bring my arm down to protect the spot that's been kicked. I hear "stupid dyke bitch" and see a flash by my right eye. I turn my head to the left slightly and try to bring my hand up just before I feel a sneaker connect solidly across the entire right side of my face.

My arms give out and I kind of collapse onto my side. I blink, trying to clear the blurry vision in my eye. Blood fills my mouth. My thoughts are scrambled, everything is focused on the pain, until all at once pure rage takes over.

_Fuck. This._

I scramble to my feet and fly a vicious punch into the face of the bitch who kicked me. She seems surprised that I even got up and doesn't defend herself at all when I connect a shot to her busted grill that puts her on the ground. I want to drop down and beat her ugly fucking face in, but realize that the others will have a free shot at me if I do that.

I wheel around to face the other three.

"Who's next you stupid fucks? COME ON!"

Two of them are helping my still-bleeding cousin to her feet, the other just looks scared. They're done.

"You're fucking pathetic, you know that? You didn't prove shit except that you are as fucking **stupid** as everyone thinks you are. _Vete al carajo_, you piece of **shit**. Stay away from me, stay away from Quinn, or I swear to fucking God I won't stop next time when you start crying."

I spit on the ground to clear my mouth of the blood that's built up, then pick my iPod up off the ground and walk quickly back to the locker room. The Cheerios locker room has a coded lock on the door, and I finally feel safe when it closes behind me. I rest against it with my hands on my knees for a moment, then strip my bloody clothes off and get in the shower before I feel the tears come. I lean my head back to avoid letting the water hit my sensitive face, but my knuckles burn from the soap as I wash myself.

_She wouldn't have really hurt Quinn, would she? What if she did? What if something happened to DJ like she said?_

I'm horrified. Everything that was just said to me was bad, but worst of all is that she threatened Quinn. Anger and fear burn through me in equal parts. I'm suddenly terrified that just being with me will put my innocent girlfriend at risk. I won the fight, but there is no guarantee no one else from my crazy ass extended family won't try to finish what Rosa started if she runs her mouth about me being gay. There are some homophobic assholes in that crowd.

Suddenly the only thing in the world I want is my mom and dad. I drop my head down and cry hard, ignoring the pain in my face and ribs until I feel drained. I pick up my phone to text my parents, but bite back the urge to run to them.

_You're not a child anymore, Santana. You got yourself into this mess. Deal with it._

I carefully put my Cheerios uniform back on, adding my pants and white long sleeved shirt. I feel the flushed heat I always experience when I'm in full rage mode. I'm not really sure what to do with myself, so I step in front of the mirror and fix my high pony with shaky hands. I carefully avoid looking at the damage to my face, as if seeing it will make all of this real.

I keep my head down and walk close to the wall as I hurry to my 6th period class, sliding into my seat next to Quinn just as the bell rings. I'm grateful that I'm on her right side, so she can't see my face. I can't control my shaking hands or the way my body is trembling, though. Normally being near my girlfriend calms me, but right now I just feel on edge. I am instantly regretting coming to class.

As soon as Quinn raises her hand, I know what she's up to. I can't believe our clown of a teacher doesn't realize she's full of it, her too-sweet tone gives her away every time. For some reason it pisses me off that she's going to force me into a conversation. The last thing I want to do right now is deal with my argument with Quinn from this morning or try to explain my face.

I snatch our things up and head out the door, hoping I can keep the silence long enough to make it to the nurse's office and drop her off without having to speak with her or having anyone seeing me. Of course, I'm not that lucky, and I feel her hands push me into a bathroom.

Even though I know it's Quinn and she's only trying to help me, being shoved snaps my very last nerve and I know I'm about to lose my temper.

* * *

**QUINN**

Puck just called to tell me that he saw Rosa Lopez in the nurse's office with a "fucked up grill." He's pretty confident Santana caused it, but he's not sure how San ended up with her face so bruised. According to Puck, there are two things you look at after a fight: the face and the knuckles. Evidently, Rosa's knuckles don't look like they pounded on someone's face today.

I've got Brittany by my side and we're trying to think of where Santana would go if she couldn't go to the one place she'd normally be. Britt's head snaps up suddenly.

"Follow me," she says with a determined look in her eye.

Brittany leads me to the auditorium and stands on the stage with me.

"Santana. I know you're in here somewhere. Will you please just come talk to us?" Brittany calls out.

There's silence in response, but movement catches my eye. She's sitting on the scaffolds above us. The movement I saw was her picking her legs up so that we wouldn't spot her. Santana sighs with irritation when she realizes we've noticed her. We look up at her, waiting.

"Can you both do me a favor and just leave? Please." She tacks the "please" on as a sarcastic afterthought.

"No, San. We can't. So you can either come down here, or Quinn and I can climb up there. Your choice."

"What do you _want_?"

"Okay, here we come!" Brittany heads to the ladder and starts climbing, and I'm hot on her heels.

"Stop! Jesus. I'll fucking come down." Santana is clearly pissed.

We sit on the edge of the stage and wait. I hear Santana gasp as she climbs down and turn to look at her. A pained grimace distorts her features as she finishes coming down.

I keep my eyes straight forward as my bruised and battered angel lowers herself down gingerly to sit between us.

Britt immediately puts her arm over San's shoulders, ignoring the flinch it causes, and gently pulls my beautiful girlfriend against her. Santana's chin drops to her chest and she immediately begins sobbing; her slight frame shaking with each desperate cry. Unsure of what to do, I slowly reach out and pick up Santana's hand gingerly. After what Puck told me, I can tell Santana gave as good as she got. My heart aches at the sight of her swollen, gashed knuckles. I raise her hand to my lips and carefully kiss it. I hold it in mine delicately and wait.

We sit like this for a long time, until Santana finally sniffles and sits back up. She turns to me with a heartbreaking expression. I know she wants to apologize, so I just shake my head.

"It's okay baby. Just tell me what happened."

Santana takes a long, quivering breath and then begins her story.

My whole body feels cold as I listen to Santana describing how this whole day has been one long escalation that led to an apparently inevitable fight. She glances furtively in my direction when she talks about some of the things that were said, as if she's only telling part of what happened.

"Wait, San. I don't understand…"

I don't know how to explain to her that I know there is more to this story than what she's saying. I don't want to push her, but I can _feel_ in my gut that she's glossing things over.

"Santana, you need to tell us the truth," Britt chimes in sternly.

I'm grateful that Brittany can tell too, but I cringe slightly, because for once I think I have a better read on Santana and I'm pretty sure she _really_ doesn't want to tell us.

Santana's face flashes anger, but quickly turns into a grimace from the pain.

"Actually, I don't _need_ to tell you _anything._ My cousin tried to beat me up, but got her ass kicked instead. One of the _four_ hoochie bitches she brought out with her took a couple of cheap shots. Hence my face, okay? End of fucking story."

_5 to 1. Her own cousin came after her with 4 other girls. Oh my God._

Brittany looks like she's been slapped. Santana hops lightly to her feet and goes straight for the side door.

"San, wait. Please," I beg shamelessly.

Santana pauses and turns to look at me, pure sorrow in her eyes. I feel my breath leave my body at that look, and I realize that I'm afraid.

"I'm going to go talk to Sue and then I'm taking the Jeep and going to Lima General. Either I can pick you up after Cheerios or Brittany can drive you home. Send me a text and let me know if you need a ride."

She starts to walk again.

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Santana? I'm coming with you to the hospital," I shout after her.

Santana doesn't stop or even acknowledge that I just spoke to her. In moments she's out the side door of the auditorium and I'm left sitting in shock next to Brittany.


	24. Aftermath

**SANTANA**

I walk into Sue's office without knocking. She looks up from whatever she's working on and takes in my worked over face, then drops her pen and leans back, waiting on me to speak.

For just this one time, I actually love Sue for her lack of emotion. It's so much easier to deal with someone who isn't trying to get me to feel right now.

"I gave better than I got. The responsible party will probably try to claim I started it. In reality, she came after _me_ with four friends in tow. All of this damage is from a cheap shot delivered by one of them. I figured you'd want to hear it from me first. I'm not going to give you any names, but I am willing to bet my tanning privileges that this shit won't stop as long as she keeps being allowed at this school."

I pause for the barest hint of a moment and close my eyes as I say my next words.

"She didn't just threaten me. She threatened Quinn, too."

I open my eyes and look at my coach. She's an evil, crazy woman, but I respect her. She wins, and I know that she cares in her own weird ass way.

Sue nods as she takes in what I've told her.

"I'll take care of it, one way or another. You need to go to the hospital, Santana."

"That's my next stop," I assure her.

"How are you getting there?"

"I'm driving myself."

Sue's lips press together in disapproval.

"No, Lopez. You aren't. Go get Fabray, and/or Pierce, and have them take you. I know you're a hard bitch, but you probably have a concussion, based on the fact that I can literally _see_ the crisscrossed outlines of the shoe laces that evidently struck your face. Now where did this happen?"

_There's no way I'm voluntarily getting either of them to drive me._

"At the track. I was running during lunch," I respond bitterly.

"Who swung first?" Sue asks.

I have to think about it, because it was all such a blur. I sigh when I remember.

"I did."

"Damn it, Santana. You know I have this whole school bugged or under video surveillance. Now I have to destroy the footage before Figgins comes looking for it."

"She made a very specific threat towards Quinn and her baby. I had no control over that first punch," I say emotionlessly, shrugging my shoulders. I couldn't care less if Figgins wants to punish me for all of this. I did what needed to be done in the moment.

Sue's face hardens when she hears my explanation and she nods sharply.

"Well, in that case, I'm just glad you didn't kill her."

A rueful smile plays at my aching lips, and Coach gives me a slight smile in return.

"Your escorts have arrived, go get looked at. I'll take care of everything on this end," Coach assures me.

My insides grow cold at the realization that Sue has stalled me until my girlfriend and best friend could arrive.

"Thanks, Coach." I say sarcastically before turning to leave.

"Lopez," Sue's stern voice slows me down, "it's not their fault that this happened. It's not _your_ fault that this happened, either. Don't let ignorance win by tearing yourself down for someone else's actions. Don't try to shut off your emotions because you think it will hurt less. It might work today, but it'll hurt you a hundred times worse tomorrow. You're strongest when you care most. I've seen it."

My chest aches immediately, but my thoughts are scrambled.

"_Don't let ignorance win…"_

_Does Sue know about me and Quinn?_

All I can do is nod and glance at my coach quickly before walking out to face Q and Brittany.

* * *

**QUINN**

We drive in silence. Santana stares out the window, doing her best to ignore Brittany and me.

I glance in the rearview mirror and make eye contact with our blonde best friend. She looks as sad as I've ever seen her, worry etched into her usually blissful face.

I had Brittany call San's parents while we followed her to Sue's office. I knew I couldn't handle that conversation, but Britt had been calm and collected, telling only the facts we knew and that we were on our way to Lima General in a few moments. I could hear the worry in the voice coming through the phone and my heart had ached painfully. Brittany had held the phone out to me with an apologetic look.

"_Mrs. L wants to speak with you_."

I'd stared at the phone for a moment before taking it.

"_Hi Momma L_."

"_Quinn honey, are you okay_?"

Her _real_ daughter got beat up and she was asking about _me_. Tears immediately sprung to my eyes.

"_Yeah...I'm okay...just...really worried...about her_." I'd managed between whimpers, continuing after take a deep breath, "_She's so angry and shut down. She's acting angry at __**us**_."

"_I know, sweetheart, but you have to stay calm and be patient, okay? Santana doesn't handle needing help very well. She's going to fight against anything that makes her feel weak, but it's not YOU she's fighting. She loves you_."

I'd started nodding emphatically before remembering I needed to speak.

"_Okay,_" I'd said, sniffling.

"_We'll be at General waiting for you. We love you both. It's going to be okay_."

We park and walk into the ER together. We see Mom and Dad Lopez right away and they jump out of their seats. Mom pulls me and Santana into her arms gently while Papa Lopez pulls Britt into a quick hug before stepping in front of Santana to inspect her injuries.

"Come on, Santanita. Let's get you checked in," he says calmly.

I stay put with Brittany while Santana and her parents walk to the counter.

Santana doesn't have to wait and is quickly whisked behind a curtain.

Brittany and I sit down and wait.

* * *

**SANTANA**

My face has been poked and prodded by a seemingly endless stream of people. I've been x-rayed and put through the MRI and CAT scan machines. I've answered basic logic questions and taken memory tests. I feel like I've been on autopilot all day. I'm exhausted.

I know I have two cracked ribs and a sprained left hand. The rest of the conversations around me have just seemed like noise. I'm not sure if I was intentionally ignoring what they said about my face or if I wasn't intended to hear it.

My father turns to his colleague and asks for a plastic surgeon. My head snaps around at that. I've avoided looking at myself, but I can't imagine that I need stitches, let alone a plastic surgeon.

"Wait, what?"

My parents both look at me.

"Why do I need a plastic surgeon?"

They exchange an uncomfortable glance before my dad speaks up.

"Mija, have you...seen your injuries?" My father asks carefully.

"No, but I can feel my face. It hardly even bled besides my lip."

Mom looks ashen and casts her eyes away from me. I look at my father, searching for answers in his face.

"Santana...your top lip is split all the way through. Your bottom lip is badly gashed. I'd actually be surprised if you can fully feel much of your face, your nerves can only handle so much and I would guess you have surpassed the threshold. The feeling will come back over the next couple of days. Don't worry about your lips either, they will be fine once you're stitched up, there shouldn't be much of a scar."

I'm dumbstruck. How could I not feel this? I tentatively touch my tongue to my top lip and run it along until I feel the raw gap in my skin. My eyes widen.

"Can I see a mirror, please?" I ask quietly.

My father nods and guides me to a bathroom. I glance towards the waiting area as I follow him and see my two favorite blondes leaning against each other, asleep. My chest constricts and I turn away.

In the bathroom I tentatively look at myself.

_HOLY SHIT._

I'm swollen and bruised from forehead to chin. Coach wasn't kidding about the network of shoelace lines across my cheek and the side of my eye.

_Oh my God, my eye._

I'd heard snippets of conversation about my eye and my vision, but it only just now registers. My right eye is swollen badly, but my actual eyeball looks even worse. I close my left eye and immediately lose the majority of my sight. I can see the shape of myself in the mirror, but can't really _see_ myself. I open my left eye again and lean in to study the damage to my right. I have to gently open my eye wider with my fingertips to be able to actually see it.

My brown iris looks darker than usual and my pupil appears dilated. Several blood vessels burst within my eye as well, I can't see any white on the outer part of my eye. I notice that if I try to look too far to the left or right I feel a shooting pain.

I sigh and look away from my busted eye, shifting my attention to my mouth. Sure enough, the very bottom of my upper lip is split through. My bottom lip is split open, but not nearly as badly. There is a deep bruise arcing along my chin just below my mouth, evidently where the toe of the sneaker had struck me.

_Hot damn._

I'm suddenly pretty impressed that I got up from the blow to my head. It had seemed like the only possibility while it was happening, but now it seems to me like I should have either been unconscious or pretending to be. No wonder that crazy bitch had looked stunned when I not only got up, but came up swinging hard.

I remember the connection with her face and look down at my knuckles. They are cut up, bruised, and swollen. The doctors were impressed that I didn't have a boxer's fracture, which results from improperly punching. They'd explained that I had struck directly with the center of my fist, which saved me from breaking my hand.

I'm proud of myself. I took on five girls and came out the victor, despite probably having the worst injuries. I'd been smarter, faster, and tougher.

I walk back to my curtained area, trying unsuccessfully not to look over at Quinn and Brittany. Whatever pride I might feel about the fact that I'd come out of a shit situation generally intact is instantly chased away when I see them.

I know what I have to do, but I can't think about it without feeling like my chest is imploding, so I don't. Instead, I address my mother in a low voice as soon as I get to my little curtained square.

"Mom, I need you to send Quinn and Brittany home."

My mother balks at my words, her eyes flickering from exhaustion to confusion to recognition. Her gaze is hard on mine when she speaks.

"I will not do that, Santana. Quinn deserves to be here, and so does Brittany. How would you have felt if she sent you away a few months ago when she was in the hospital? How would you have felt if she shut you out instead of leaning on you? Shutting her out isn't strength, mija, it's weakness."

I swallow thickly and look away, I can feel the anger and the pain rising in my chest.

"I _can't_ do this, Mom. I _can't._ And I _need_ you to support _me_ on this. For once, please, just back me up."

The tears in my mother's eyes cut me to the quick and steal my breath. I wasn't expecting this reaction. Anger maybe, but not hurt.

"I have always and _will _always support you, Santana Diabla Lopez. You are my daughter, and I love you, but you are wrong on this. Tell me, please, what you are trying to accomplish?"

I sigh and look down at my feet. My parents haven't asked me about the fight yet, and evidently Brittany and Quinn didn't tell them either.

"Mom, this wasn't just an attack on me. Quinn was threatened too. Our being together puts her at risk. I can't let her get hurt because I'm too selfish to let her go."

"Mija-"

My mom is interrupted by a voice raising slightly outside of our curtained area.

"…_you two are fucking. Santana will be out on her ass before you know it, because that shit doesn't fly in our family. She's a disgrace, just like you, whore_."

_Rosa. _And there is only one person she could be talking to. I take one step toward the curtain before my mother grabs my wrist tightly, keeping me from going to my girlfriend's defense. I glare at my mother intensely, but she just shakes her head at me and whispers "_wait._"

"_I happen to know for a fact that you gave more than one McKinley Titan herpes, so that's a little bit of kettle-pot action, isn't it? I'll be pregnant for a few more months, but you're infected for __**life**__ with whoredom. So you can __**literally**__ go suck a thousand dicks, you stupid bitch, because that's all you'll ever be good for. Enjoy kiddie prison. Again_."

I'm shocked when I hear Quinn's voice sounding like a harsh growl. I look at my mother with wide eyes and she's grinning ear to ear in response to Q's verbal beat down. My wrist is released and I immediately snatch the curtain back.

* * *

**QUINN**

**5 Minutes Prior**

I wake up suddenly, my muscles tight and achy from sitting in a crappy plastic chair. Brittany looks at me sleepily and then gets up to curl into a ball on the floor. I carefully avoid her as I stand up to stretch. I walk cautiously towards Santana's curtained area, needing just to see that she's okay.

"Well look who it is," I hear from an opened area to my right.

I turn and see none other than Rosa Lopez, her nose humongous with swelling, her eyes blackened. She has a large cut on her cheek.

My eyes narrow and I feel adrenaline shoot through me.

"Don't speak to me, you piece of shit." I spit my words at her, my voice low with fury.

"You sure have my cousin whipped, don't you, Miss Bitchy Rich? She was ready to take a beating for you. Santana got lucky. She'll get hers though, not to worry."

I fight to keep my bitch glare focused on her as I process her words. I decide to go on the offensive.

"Oh will she? How many friends will you bring this time? Better come ready, because it looks like Santana beat your sorry ass outnumbered and alone. And understand this: next time she'll have friends too. You'll _never_ get her alone again, and I promise you that those of us who stand beside her will be willing to kill for that girl. Santana is everything you are not, and more than you could ever dream of being. So I hope you enjoy being just another second rate, Santana-wannabe, Rosa, because you'll _never _compare to the real thing."

Rosa's eyes flash with anger and she leans forward, her wrist catching on the handcuff attaching her to the bed.

"I know you two are fucking. Santana will be out on her ass before you know it, because that shit doesn't fly in our family. She's a disgrace, just like you, whore."

I smile thinly, my voice acidic as I step closer to emphasize my words.

"I happen to know for a fact that you gave more than one McKinley Titan herpes, so that's a little bit of kettle-pot action, isn't it? I'll be pregnant for a few more months, but you're infected for _life_ with whoredom. So you can _literally _go suck a thousand dicks, you stupid bitch, because that's all you'll ever be good for. Enjoy kiddie prison. Again."

I hear a curtain behind me rip open and turn to see the most beautiful face in the world, bruised and looking outraged, but somehow still ever so striking. Santana simultaneously gently pulls me backward by my elbow as she steps forward, effectively placing herself slightly in front of me. I keep my eyes on the side of her face.

"I thought I told you to stay away from her. I thought I made myself _perfectly _clear. Watch yourself, Rosa. I'm not kidding. I _will _hurt you." Santana looks as deadly serious as I've ever seen her, and I experience a bizarre combination of pride, arousal, fear, and smugness.

I look back at Rosa. She is as pale as her skin tone can be. Pretty sure she wasn't expecting Santana to be so close by.

She opens her mouth to speak, but her mouth snaps shut at the same moment I sense my surrogate mother behind me.

"Girls, go in the curtained area, please."

I glance at Santana, who looks at her mother briefly, before giving Rosa another glare and turning back into her area. I follow and close the curtain behind us. My eyes search my girlfriend's face, desperate to know where we stand after the craziness of this day. She is frozen, her head tilted, and I recognize that she's listening to her mother. Momma L sounds cold and quiet, her angry whisper fading in and out so that we only catch snippets of what she says.

"…_have more potential than this, Rosa. I've always believed in your ability to overcome obstacles, but instead you choose to let... Worse, you punish your own cousin…she had nothing to do with. Tío Miguel and I chose to move…Santana…a __**child**__. You are blood, sobrina…room to work through these issues on your own. But this is __**too**__**far**__...might never regain her vision in her right eye, Rosa. __**This isn't a game**__…_"

Santana reaches down and grips my hand with her good one. I squeeze it, then release it to wrap my arm lightly around her waist, pulling her closer to me as we continue listening as best we can.

"…_cool or impressive or brave…disgusting…whatever you __**think**__ you know about Quinn and Santana, __**forget it**__. They live under __**my**__ roof, by __**my**__ rules…not necessary…back to juvenile detention… __**know this**__…refused to give up your name, despite everything…after her again, or if anyone else…on your behalf, I will take __**everything**__ from you. Family lines will mean __**nothing**__ to me…lawsuit that takes what little you have. __**Am I clear**__?_"

I look at the damage to my favorite face. My heart aches painfully at the physical wounds I see, but more so for the emotional ones I know Santana will not share easily.

She finally looks at me and I control the flash of horror I feel when I fully see how damaged her eye looks. Momma Lopez's words ring in my head again.

"_Might never regain her vision in her right eye, Rosa._"

_Oh Jesus Christ, no._

"Santana, I…I just want you to know that I love you," I say firmly, looking into her eyes, "I'll let you deal with this however you need to, but I'm here. I'll always be here."

My girl leans forward and rests her forehead on mine for a brief moment. She closes her eyes before she speaks.

"They have to stitch my mouth, Q. You might not want to stay here for this."

I know the pain I feel at her indifferent response is evident on my face, but I choose not to comment on it. Pushing her won't work.

"I'd prefer to stay with you, if you don't mind," I tell her calmly.

She studies me for a second, then nods.

"Okay, I'll be right back. I'm going to check on Britt," I say, dropping a light kiss on her left cheek and leaving the curtained area.

I find that Mrs. L is already checking on our blonde friend. Brittany has a pillow now, her Cheerios jacket draped over her.

I make eye contact with Momma Lopez and she inclines her head towards where I left Santana. I pick up on her meaning and turn around to return to my girlfriend's side.

I don't miss how Santana's good eye lights up when she sees me, despite her efforts to keep her features neutral. God, it hurts that she won't let me in, but I'll do whatever it takes to support her through this.

I hold her hand as they stick her open wounds with lidocaine to numb them before beginning the stitching. I'm amazed by the precision of the plastic surgeon, and soon Santana's gashes have both been pulled carefully back together.

I get a tiny smile from San when the surgeon is finishes, her numbed lips lopsided in the most adorable way.

I'm so glad when we are finally free to go. The only thing in the world I want to do now is curl up with my beautiful girl and just _be_ with her.

* * *

**SANTANA**

I'm waiting at the house for Quinn to return from dropping Brittany off. The hurt on her face when I chose to ride home with my parents saddened me, but I know it's for the best.

My mother and I haven't spoken to one another since I made my decision clear to her in the hospital. I can tell that Dad is uncomfortable with the silence between us. Our family is usually full of conversation and laughter. This uncharacteristic silence is awkward for us all.

Upon arriving home, Mom had looked at me seriously and made her only comment.

"You're going to regret this, Santana. Be_ stronger_ than this."

I'd stared at my feet, knowing my soul is dying already, but also knowing that it's really the right thing to do.

So now I'm waiting. Waiting to break Quinn's heart. Waiting to break my own.

My thoughts are racing.

"_Don't let ignorance win by tearing yourself down for someone else's actions. Don't try to shut off your emotions because you think it will hurt less. It might work today, but it'll hurt you a hundred times worse tomorrow. You're strongest when you care most. I've seen it._"

"_Shutting her out isn't strength, mija, it's weakness_."

"_Quinn is your answer._"

"…_And then I'm going to drag your rich whore girlfriend out to this field next to you and bring her down a peg or two. With a little luck, maybe that little bastard she's carrying will be as brain dead as you are_."

I clasp my hands together and begin to pray.

_I can't do this._

_But I __**have**__ to._


	25. Caught Beneath the Undertow

**A/N: For you, my dear readers, since there was much gnashing of teeth over the cliffhanger of the last chapter and so many reviews so quickly, I figured I'd post sooner than planned. Thank you for being such dedicated, awesome readers. Enjoy.**

* * *

**QUINN**

I find Santana waiting for me when I get home. My stomach flips the moment I see her, knowing instinctively that whatever she is about to say, I don't want to hear.

After my little chat with Rosa earlier it wasn't hard to figure out what part of their disagreement my girlfriend was trying to keep from me. I know San almost too well, and all of the pieces from today have slowly come together to paint the worst possible picture.

"First of all, I love you so much, Quinn. So much it hurts," she begins, and I feel my heart break already.

"No, Santana. I'm going to stop you right there. Whatever you think you need to do right now, you don't. You don't have to do this. Please don't do this," my voice trails off into whimpers with my begging.

Santana looks like her heart is being torn to pieces. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. I know I have to take this chance to be the strong one for once. She doesn't really want to do this. I take a deep breath and fight the panic I feel.

"Look at me, San."

Her good eye focuses on me, her other one is practically closed from the swelling.

"I know you think you need to protect me, and I love that about you. No one in this world has ever made me feel so safe, and I don't think anyone ever will. You are the strongest, bravest, _toughest_ person I know, Santana Lopez. I will always lean on you, I will always trust you to keep me safe."

My girlfriend drops her head and starts crying softly.

"But I need you to trust me, too. I am strong enough to handle this. What I'm _not_ strong enough to handle is losing you. I know you think that you'd be protecting us both by ending this. But it won't really change anything. Because I'm still going to be in love with you, and I'm still going to be here, and some people are still going to make assumptions. And honestly, I don't even care. _Fuck_ everyone else. You and me, Santana. That's all we really need to be okay."

Santana's eyes are closed as she listens to me. I can see the war she's waging in her pained expression.

"How about this: don't decide anything tonight. Just give me a couple of days, at least give me the courtesy of thinking about this for more than a few hours. Let's just go to bed so I can hold you close, because that's what _I_ need right now, even if you don't think you do. Can we do that?"

Santana starts shaking her head, and I finally feel angry.

"Okay, it was a mistake to pose that as a question. We are not breaking up. Not tonight, anyway. You don't get to decide this for us without giving it more thought. This is a _partnership_, Santana, we are a _team_. I am as much in this as you are, and you don't get to take my entire world from me without at least talking to me about it. So we're going upstairs to bed now, and you are going to let me hold you."

My voice is simultaneously pleading and assertive. I search her face, hoping against hope that I've somehow bought myself a few days reprieve from this heartbreak.

Santana looks stunned, but nods almost imperceptibly, and I feel air fill my lungs again. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath.

"Okay. I love you, Santana. Let's go to bed."

I take her good hand and lead her towards the stairs.

* * *

Santana insists on going to school the next day. We've been arguing with her all morning, both of her parents and I teaming up to try to convince her. I've been waiting for her parents to put their foot down and demand that she stay home, but they seem to feel that ordering Santana around won't help this situation.

"I'll stay with you, San."

"_No_, Quinn. I'm going to school. Rosa isn't going to be there, but those other dumb bitches will be. They need to see that they didn't win."

Santana looks at all three of our defeated faces for a second and sighs.

"I promise I'll come home if my head starts to hurt or something. Please just try to understand that I need to do this."

Mom and Dad Lopez look at each other and then nod.

"Okay, mija. Go to school. But I want an hourly text message telling me what your pain level is. And you are absolutely not taking part in physical activities, so no Cheerios. That is non-negotiable."

"Deal." Santana's face looks the most relaxed I've seen it in almost 24 hours. "Are you ready, Q?"

"Yup," I say, grabbing up my bag.

I step forward and kiss her cheek.

"I love you," I tell her.

She nods and swallows, and gives me a little half smile with the good side of her mouth.

"I know."

I raise my eyebrows for the barest hint of second at her response and turn to my surrogate parents. I hear Santana open the door and walk outside.

"I'll take care of her, don't worry. We'll see you later," I say, almost too lightly for the moment.

They both smile at me, their eyes sympathetic.

"Try to have a good day. Be patient, Quinn."

I nod and follow my girlfriend out the door.

* * *

Puck meets us in the parking lot when we arrive at school. Santana looks at him in confusion-sectionals helped ease the awkwardness somewhat but things have been pretty weird since the day Finn found out the truth and I ended up at the hospital. I've been told Santana laid the smack down on Puck, Finn, and Rachel after I was wheeled away on the stretcher, so they generally have kept their distance from both of us.

"What do you want, Puckerman?"

Santana sounds more tired than bitchy.

"Quinn came to me when she saw your face yesterday," he tells her with a shrug, "It sounded bad, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

The surprise is evident on my girlfriends face. I silently thank Puck for leaving out the fact that I texted him before we left this morning and asked him to walk with us into the school.

"Oh. Well, as you can see, I'm fine."

I give her a hard look when she looks at me and she turns back to Puck.

"Um, thank you. I appreciate it."

Puck shrugs.

"I was also hoping you might enlighten me as to how you managed to come out on top in such a lopsided fight. I'm a huge badass, but even _I'm_ impressed. I guess it only makes sense that you and I were such a power duo."

Santana rolls her eyes. I know she doesn't want to talk about the fight, and I don't really want to talk about San and Puck as a couple, so I interject.

"We better start heading in to get to class on time."

I begin walking and the former "power duo" steps in alongside me. I'm surprised to see Santana loop her arm around Puck's waist from the corner of my eye. Puck looks shocked too, but smiles and drapes his arm over her shoulders. After a moment I realize what she's doing, and I fight the slow burn I feel in my heart.

People are going to notice her face today and the rumor mill will fire up quickly. The other girls involved may or may not run their mouths, but Santana wants to present herself on Puck's arm to supply doubt to the truth of their claims right off the bat. I'm sure she'll provide JBI with a sound bite too. She's brilliant at controlling her image and portraying the scenario how she'd like for it to be perceived. I should have known that coming to school was more than just to prove she won the fight—Santana is still protecting us.

Once we've delivered Santana to her first class I gesture for Puck to follow me and I head to the choir room, where Britt is already waiting for me.

"I'm a little confused here, Quinn. What's up with the Santana cuddle I just got? And why did you want me to walk with you guys?"

I take a deep breath. I've debated what exactly I should say during this conversation, but haven't come up with an answer, so I'm improvising now. I glance at Brittany before I speak.

"Rosa accused Santana of being gay...and sleeping with me. She is trying to circumvent the inevitable rumors by presenting herself with you. And I asked you to walk with us because I'm concerned for her safety if some of the less accepting people in her family believe what Rosa claims."

Puck's eyebrows are halfway up his forehead and he lets out a low whistle. Brittany shakes her head in mock disbelief at this supposed revelation she's known about since our drive home last night.

"Isn't it kind of crazy to accuse a pregnant girl of having a girlfriend? And everyone knows Santana and I were together. No way she goes gay after getting some Puckasaurus. No one will believe that."

I roll my eyes at him.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter, the accusation is out there. We live together and spend all of our time together, I guess that's enough now." _And sleep together, can't forget that._

"So what do you want to do?"

"I want to enlist the Glee club and the Cheerios to keep Santana within sight of friends at all times. She can't know that it's happening though. Santana thinks she needs to stand alone and unafraid right now, but we need to make sure she only _thinks_ she's alone, at least for the time being. Brittany will take charge of getting the Cheerios organized, and I was hoping you would kind of lead the Glee side of it. Santana will know if I do it, we're together too much."

"Done," he says without pause. "What else can I do?"

"I don't know, but if I think of anything else, I'll let you know. Thanks for doing this, Puck."

"Anything for my favorite MILF."

"Don't call me that."

Puck looks wounded.

"We need to talk about this, Quinn. About us."

I see Brittany's eyebrows shoot up, and she turns around and walks away to give us privacy.

"Not today, we don't. And there is no _us._"

"Then when?"

"I don't know, Puck. There is kind of a lot on my plate right now. How about when Santana's face heals up, we can have that conversation. Okay?"

Puck looks annoyed and confused. I know that'll buy me quite a bit of time, plus I'll hopefully have my girlfriend back to herself by then.

"Fine."

* * *

I overhear Santana providing her interview to Jacob before 3rd period.

"So can you tell us your version of events?"

"I can tell you what really happened, if that's what you're asking for."

I peek over at them when I hear her voice sounding much too chipper for the mood I know she's in. She has carefully angled the good side of her face towards the camera and she's smiling mildly. I know for a fact that anything more than a half smile hurts her like hell, so she must really be going all out.

"Uhh, sure."

"I had some words with one person and she tried to fight me with four friends. After I beat her down, I took a cheap shot from one her cowardly sidekicks, who I then knocked out with one punch. Basically, I once again proved that I'm the baddest bitch in this whole school."

"What do you have to say to reports that the fight was a result of Rosa Lopez accusing you of lady loving with McKinley's favorite fallen star, Quinn Fabray?"

"That accusation was made, that's true," Santana dismisses with a shrug, "But that's not why the fight happened, the fight happened because threats were made against myself, a pregnant girl, and an unborn child. Any decent person in my position would have stood their ground as well, because people who are willing to harm a baby deserve whatever massive ass whooping gets laid upon them."

Jacob turns back to his cameraman while Santana winks her undamaged eye at the camera.

"There you have it, folks. Santana Lopez. Head Cheerio, Certified Hottie, Vigilante Protector of the Unborn."

* * *

**SANTANA**

I think I have successfully manipulated popular opinion about the reasons for the fight. It's been a long couple of days of false cheerfulness and Oscar worthy acting, but it's been worth it. No one seems to be buying the gay cheerleader story. I'm not altogether surprised that it was an easy claim to quell. For some reason people have a hard time believing a girl could possibly be gay if she's pretty and feminine. If I was ready to accept my sexuality I might actually find it kind of offensive.

As impressive as my performance for the school has been, it pales in comparison to the one for Quinn. I feel like a thousand needles get jammed into my heart every time I treat her with cool indifference. She knows exactly what I'm doing, and has patiently accepted it. No matter how hard I try though, it seems impossible to build any kind of emotional wall towards her. I wonder if she has any idea how many times I've almost given in. Each time, my cousin's vicious words haunt me once more and I know that I'll do anything to protect Quinn and DJ. I just have to build up the courage to actually do it.

It's been three days since the fight, and although each day has gotten easier to deal with, they've also gotten progressively weirder. At least it's Friday so I don't have to deal with this place for the next two days. The weirdness (hopefully) peaked today when I inevitably ran into three of the girls who had flanked my cousin on the field. I knew Rosa wouldn't give up their names and I'm obviously not going to either. Coach took care of getting my main problem out of the school, so I can handle these sad wannabes.

The _weird_ thing is that when one of them decided to act tough and actually talk shit in my direction, I hadn't been alone when I turned on her. Standing right next to me was _Rachel Berry_. She came out of nowhere.

I'm pretty sure she'd be a liability if a fight had actually broken out, because I'd feel obligated to protect her, but it doesn't change the fact that she was bowing up next to me like some kind of tough guy. I'd never admit this to her, but it was actually sorta cute. Like the "watching a puppy bark at grizzly bear" kind of cute.

The trio of airhead bimbos had taken one look at the animal sweater-wearing miniature sidekick at my side and sneered out a vicious insult. I don't have a whole lot of love lost with the tiny ball of crazy known as Rachel Berry, but I'll be damned if I was going to let those worthless followers talk shit on her.

I'd raised my fist up and thrown my head forward like I was going to punch them, then laughed at their immediate collective flinch. I know I was inviting a fight by mocking them, but I was so pissed I didn't even care.

It wouldn't have mattered if they _did_ try something though, because the craziest part happened next. The stupid bitches recovered from their embarrassment at flinching and stepped forward, but I was immediately flanked by every girl in the Glee club, save for Quinn, and several Cheerios. It was the oddest back up gang in the history of the world, and the dumb hoes in front of me had backed down, looking confused and overwhelmed. I don't think I'd actually need back up against these bitches, but I had to laugh at the fear on their faces.

In any case, I'm pretty sure they'll keep their distance from now on, and I'm just a few more classes from the freedom of the weekend, thank God.

When I get to Glee I am surprised to find everyone already there. I slip into a seat next to Puck, feeling Quinn's eyes on me. I see her shake her head out of the peripheral vision of my left eye. My chest aches again.

"Okay guys, I understand you've already prepped a song. Let's hear it," Mr. Schue says before taking a seat.

I'm confused when half the Glee kids stand up and move to the front of choir room, and even more so when Quinn gets up to sit next to me, taking Puck's now empty seat. Brittany looks at me from one of the stools behind Finn.

Finn looks behind him at the group assembled and then turns around to speak.

"Santana, we know you're not really the type to get caught up in a sappy dramatic moments, but it's been important to us that we tell you that we love you and you'll never face anything alone again. You are a part of this family, a really important part, probably the most badass part too—sorry, Puck—so we want to sing you a song and then we don't ever have to talk about this again."

He looks at the band and nods.

_She left for Austin, suitcase in her hand_

_So torn and tired of no one understanding her_

_She worked the nights just to make the rent_

_She spends those hours there just thinking of_

_The way it should have been_

_Maybe what it all comes down to,_

_Maybe what it all comes down to_

_Sometimes your world gets caught beneath the undertow_

_Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it's both_

_Sometimes your world gets caught beneath the undertow_

_You're not alone, you're not alone_

_She's never seen the ocean but it's right there in her mind_

_Barefeet running in the water, she goes there every time_

_She wears her heartache, she wears that cotton dress_

_We all got scars we try to hide, we're all the same I guess_

_Maybe what it all comes down to_

_Maybe what it all comes down to_

_Sometimes your world gets caught beneath the undertow_

_Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it's both_

_Sometimes your world gets caught beneath the undertow_

_You're not alone_

_Give it all to find yourself_

_Give it all to find yourself_

_Give it all to find yourself_

_You're ready to find new hope_

_Sometimes your world gets caught beneath the undertow_

_Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it's both_

_Sometimes your world gets caught beneath the undertow_

_You're not alone, you're not alone_

_No you're not alone_

I'm overwhelmed. I look down and see Quinn's hand in mine.

I can't help the tears that fall.

* * *

**QUINN**

When we get home from school Santana takes my hand and leads me to the living room.

"I know you were behind that song today. I've heard that album on your iPod before," she tells me matter-of-factly.

I shrug and nod. I assumed she would figure it out.

"And I'm not sure, but I think you are behind the fact that I had a large posse behind me today when I ran into those girls. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've had a posse on standby all week, haven't I?"

_Shit_.

I knew the idea to have a group text set up for emergencies was dangerous one. I'd heard about the overwhelming response to Rachel's panic text to the group recruited to have Santana's back, and I knew it would raise her suspicions.

I shrug again.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Quinn."

"No idea."

"Okay, well I know you're lying, but that's okay. We still need to have the conversation we've been putting off for three days," Santana studies me as she says this, finally able to look at me with both eyes.

I feel panic rise up in me. I was hoping she'd just drop this if I convinced her it wasn't necessary. I can feel my breathing change and see Santana recognize this first warning sign of impending panic attack doom.

"Shhh, baby, listen to me," Santana grabs my hands in hers, "It's okay, I promise."

She looks at me with her eyebrows raised, waiting for me to accept her words and listen to her. I nod slowly, still feeling anxious but concentrating on breathing slowly.

When she sees I'm calm enough, she begins speaking quietly.

"Before we happened, I felt like I had to protect you even though I was trying so hard to hate you. And a lot of the things I did were really stupid and harmful to myself. Even though I thought at the time I was doing all of this great stuff, being a huge martyr at the altar of Quinn, I know now that you never would have wanted me to do those things.

With all of this…I honestly felt that breaking up with you was the only answer, Q. I thought that doing that would protect you from the kind of shit I went through with Rosa. It seemed like the right thing to do, sacrificing my love to protect you. But watching you the past few days…you've been amazing. You've been so strong and brave, and you damn sure made it impossible for me to do what I felt like I should. You showed me that, once again, I wouldn't really be protecting you, I'd just be hurting myself—both of us—under the guise of protecting you. You showed me that I'm not really stronger when I'm alone. So I'm not going to do that. I'm going to face my fears with you, just like I promised you I would. I am _so_ sorry for keeping you away from me the past few days. In truth baby, I've never wanted you closer. Thank you for being so patient. I love you, Quinn. I'm sorry for being so weak."

Santana has broken down into tears and so have I. Mine are tears of sadness at her pain and sheer relief that she's going to stick this out with me.

"Don't be an idiot, Lopez. You're the strongest person I know. I love you, Santana."

I lean forward and place a gentle kiss on every unbruised part of her face. She opens her eyes and studies me before giving me a little half smile and turning her bruised half towards me in unspoken invitation.

I carefully touch my lips ever so lightly to her battered skin, being as tender as I possibly can. When I lean back, Santana purses her lips at me and I oblige her with the softest kiss possible.

"Oh and I should also tell you that I found your verbal smack down of Rosa in the ER to be _incredibly_ sexy. If I hadn't been in a lot of pain and totally wrapped up in my own crazy thoughts, I might have had to pull you into the bathroom and had my way with you," my girlfriend tells me in her sexy whisper.

"You can have your way with me any time, any place," I whisper back.

"_Oh my God_. We need to go upstairs. I really can't wait to be able to kiss you without it hurting, but as long as you don't mind feeling my sutures against your lips, I'll gladly suffer a bit." San says with a little half smile.

"If you're willing to suffer, I'll deal with your sutures," I tell her with a smirk before _very_ gently kissing her lips again. "Will you tell me something though?"

"Yes baby, anything."

"These things you did before we got together…will you tell me what they were?"

Santana sighs heavily and nods.

* * *

**A/N 2: Okay friends- I decided to save this longer note for the end so as not to accidently give anything away, but I felt like I needed to clarify a bit why things went the way they did with Santana. First- she's 15! I realized at some point that the Santana of my story was almost universally altruistic and abnormally mature. She's a character based in reality, and people make dumb choices that they often think are good choices. As I started to write the fight chapter I thought about what I would have done at 15 had I been in a similar position, and I can almost guarantee I would have tried to be tougher than I really was. So that's kind of where that came from. Characters that always make good choices are boring as hell. Second, I wanted to dive into Quinn a little bit more. She's been cast as the "protected" to Santana's "protector," but I wanted to reverse those roles because the Quinn of season 1 Glee, while oftentimes fragile, was also actually a significantly stronger character than she gets credit for. **

**I'll get off the soapbox now, because I don't want to get too much into my thoughts on these characters and ruin the story.**

**The song, for anyone interested, is Undertow by Green River Ordinance-who have also kindly provided the inspiration for a few chapter names.**

**Everybody have a great weekend. I'll be away from my computer visiting family, but I promise to update as soon as I get a chance. -stb**


	26. Tana Banana, Q-Ball, and the Kid

**A/N: Managed to get pretty sick over the weekend, so wrote mostly fluff to cheer myself up a bit. I hope you guys enjoy it. **

**A/N 2: We're coming down to the wire here, I'm going to try to wrap this up in the next 4-5 chapters before life gets really crazy so that you all don't have to wait weeks upon weeks for updates. As always, thank you for your many kind reviews and your follows/favorites.**

* * *

**SANTANA**

I can't believe I'm going to admit these things to Quinn. It's embarrassing now, because I see how stupid I was being, but at the time I just couldn't see past my own hubris I guess. It definitely takes a special kind of self-importance to assume that you are responsible for another person's well-being.

I take a deep breath and just start talking.

"There was a lot of stupid shit. Like, I 'accidentally' hit Finn in the nuts during one of our numbers after you ran off to puke early on. Stupid fucking Puck hadn't announced your pregnancy yet, but I kind of suspected. I fought it though, I told myself there was no way you would do that. So, aside of hitting Finn, I completely pretended it wasn't happening. When Puck _did_ tell half the Glee club in a ridiculous fit of immaturity, I snatched up everyone he told and threatened their lives to keep it as under wraps as possible. I also suspected that Puck was probably the actual father based on his little fit, so I...punished him...in my own way. Let's see, oh this is gross, but I let Jacob grope me to keep the story off the blogs for as long as possible. That kid is a little pervy weirdo. Um, I generally covered for you with Sue and the rest of the Cheerios, I guess. I began a reign of terror against your parents when they kicked you out. I won't go into detail in case the cops show up, so that you have plausible deniability. Basically, I was an idiot. I did anything and everything I could do to make a bubble around you, as long as you didn't know I was doing it."

Quinn nods and takes a deep breath as if to steel herself.

"And Puck? What did you do to him? How did you punish him?"

I sigh and look down. The things I did with Puck are the worst.

"With Puck...well you know about the sexting thing, but before that I, um, I basically had sex with him to keep him from you going after you. At first I just started dating him because I knew you liked him, even though he's a complete idiot, and I didn't want you to get mixed up with him. Then I schemed a bit to get you and Finn together because I knew he wouldn't pressure you like Puck would. When I knew that just being Puck's girlfriend wasn't enough to keep his attention off of you, I started giving him, um…more. First I just gave him blow jobs, then I let him take my virginity, and eventually I used sex to, uh, kind of manipulate him. I "punished" him by either withholding sex or not finishing what I started."

I feel tears fill my eyes at my next admission.

"The, uh, worst thing I did was probably having a threesome with him and Britt. I feel so fucking guilty for that, because I should have been protecting her too. She's so innocent… Anyway, what makes me most upset is that I kept doing it after he'd already slept with you because I didn't really _know_. Once I found out for sure...it made me sick. I actually threw up. I was so devastated for you. And I was disgusted with myself. I just felt used and empty, I guess. I was stupid Quinn. I'm sorry I didn't protect you better, I'm sorry that I did all of those things, I'm sorry that I can't undo any of it."

I'm staring at my hands and I am absolutely unwilling to look up into the inevitable disappointment in my favorite eyes. The quiet between us is deafening.

When I finally drag my gaze up to look at my silent girlfriend, I see that her eyebrows are frozen in a slightly raised position and she's blinking as if she can erase the images I've just put into her mind. She brings her eyes to mine and visibly swallows before giving me the barest hint of a smile. It flashes uncomfortably across her face and then disappears, and I wait for whatever comes next.

Quinn leans in to kiss my damaged lips ever so gently.

"Okay. I love you. Let's go upstairs."

I balk in surprise.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"What should I say? Should I lecture you on how freaking stupid you were? Should I thank you? Be angry? I know you did those things in theory for me, but you're right, I would never have wanted you to put yourself at risk like that. If anything, I feel guilt. If I hadn't been ignoring you because of my own feelings for you none of this would have happened. Hell, I was too much of a coward to talk to you, and I missed you, so I slept with your boyfriend _knowing_ you'd eventually come to yell at me. But it's done, Santana. Neither of us can undo the things we did back then. All we can do is be good to each other now."

I'm incredulous.

"You slept with Puck so that I'd come after you? Are you serious?"

Her pretty eyes fall away from mine. She looks immediately smaller.

"Well I didn't exactly plan on sleeping with him. I figured just hooking up with him would get your attention, but he...things went too far."

The breath leaves my lungs and I don't want to ask her, but I have to.

"He didn't…Quinn he didn't _force _you-"

Q immediately shakes her head at me.

"No, babe, he didn't force me. I just…alcohol was involved and I was weak."

I want to scream at her. All she had to do was talk to me. She was the one who made it impossible for us to speak, she didn't need to do anything but come to me. But who am I to judge her poor decisions. Look at all of mine.

I hang my head.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry and I can't ever say enough how sorry I am."

Quinn immediately reaches for me, carefully cupping the unmarked side of my face.

"Santana...no. Stop apologizing. It's all done. It's over. We both did things that, of themselves, we would want to undo. But it's all part of being here, with you. And I wouldn't undo a single thing that led me to being with you, San. I have lost a lot, but I have gained so much more. You are _mine_. I don't think you realize what an incredible gift that is for me. You are worth it, love. You are worth _everything_. Okay? So don't be an idiot."

She's wearing a slight smile at our little joke, but her beautiful hazel/green eyes are clear and serious, looking deep into mine. I answer with a half-smile and nod.

Quinn bypasses my lips to place a lingering, gentle kiss on my cheek.

"Upstairs?"

I can't help but give her a grin, despite the pain it causes my lips.

"Oh hell yes."

* * *

**QUINN**

I wake up to Santana kissing my cheek. I look up, surprised to see her fully dressed early on a Saturday morning.

"Whereyougoingbaby?" I mumble into the pillow.

"I'm going down to help my dad at the free clinic in Adjacent. I'll be back in a few hours."

My head shoots off the pillow.

"Santana, why would you go there after everything that's happened? You can't get into any fights or you could lose your _vision_. It's not something to mess around with!"

Santana has a clot in the back of her right eye as a result of the trauma of being kicked. The doctors have made it very clear that additional damage while it's still healing could damage her vision permanently. I've had the task of putting steroid drops in her eye twice a day since she doesn't like doing it herself. One thing I know for certain is that I worry about her damn eye more than she does.

I get a little smile from my stubborn, crazy girlfriend. She climbs onto the bed next to me and looks into my eyes.

"Do you think Dad would let me go with him if there was a concern for my safety? The clinic runs on volunteer manpower. They need my help today."

"But your family-"

"My family will not be an issue. Dad called a few of my cousins that _aren't_ insane and has them coming down too, just in case. I think he's blowing it out of proportion, but whatever. The bottom line is that the clinic provides the only healthcare some of the kids in Adjacent can get. I was treated there as a kid myself. They need our help and I'm going."

"Can I come with you then?"

Santana sighs as if she expected the question but still hoped I wouldn't ask.

"No, pretty lady. A couple of hundred sick kids and adults is not the place for you right now, and honestly even if you weren't pregnant Adjacent isn't really the kind of place for you anyhow."

I frown at that. If it's not safe for me, it's not safe for her.

"Don't make that face at me, Lucy Q. You know it's not the same. I'm from there and I look like them. I hate to say it, but it matters. You would attract a lot of attention in my old neighborhood, just because you're so fair skinned. Add on the fact that you're beautiful and you'd basically start a riot of epic proportions."

I smile, because I know she's teasing me now, but I'm still worried.

"Text me then? As often as you can?"

"Absolutely, beautiful. Now get some more sleep. I'll be home before you know it."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you most."

My girlfriend gives me the sweetest kiss imaginable before quietly slipping out the door.

* * *

**Tana Banana: Hey you. I miss your face. I hope you slept well.**

I smile at Santana's text and type out a quick response.

**Me: I always sleep better with you here. Miss you more. DJ says hi too. She's more awake than me.**

I climb out of bed and stretch my aching limbs. DJ is more than just awake , she's in full "kicker" mode this morning.

**Tana Banana: Oh yeah? Play her some belly drums. I miss you most.**

Normally when the baby is going crazy like this Santana likes to gently drum on my belly in response to her kicks. It's easily the cutest thing I've ever seen. I'm pretty sure San should pick up drumming, but every time I tell her that she looks at me like I'm crazy.

**Me: I can't drum like you, she'll know its not you doing it. How long til you come home?**

**Tana Banana: mmm I dunno. Probably 3 or 4 hours. Depends on how many people come.**

**Me: :( okay**

**Tana Banana: No sad faces for pretty girls. I love you. **

**Me: Love you too babe**

I head downstairs and make myself some breakfast, trying to decide what to do with my day.

When I wander back into Santana's room it hits me. I'm going to clean this mess up.

I get started, piling our combined laundry into the dirty clothes hamper and carrying it down to the washing machine. When I check the pockets of San's Cheerio pants I find a note between her and Brittany. It doesn't even occur to me not to read it until after I've finished because we share basically everything.

The first part is from Brittany:

_Your my bestie and I love you. Of course I'd never leave you. Doesn't mean I have to agree with you._

Santana's sharp, angular writing follows:

_**You think I'm wrong?**_

_Don't you?_

_**Obviously not.**_

_Your equation hasn't changed, Sanny._

_**Everything has changed.**_

_Actually, nothing has. Someone who hated you before still hates you._

_**And now Q**_

_Q had money. She was hated before too. Nothing is new._

_**I don't think I can do it anyway.**_

_Yeah, because your body is smarter than your brain. It knows where you belong._

_**You should write a book, Yoda.**_

_But I don't know how to yoda…_

_**Never mind.**_

I have to smile at the last part, certain that Brittany assumed Yoda had something to do with _yodeling_. I'm not surprised that Britt would be the one talking sense into Santana behind the scenes this past week. She's the most brilliantly logical/illogical person I've ever met. We're lucky to have her to keep us from getting in our own way all the time.

I put the note off to the side, to make sure I don't forget to tell San that I read it. I don't want her to think I was snooping. I just didn't really think before I started reading.

Before long I've got a load of laundry in the machine and San's closet has been reorganized and neatened. I sigh when I start cleaning out under her bed, amazed at the accumulation of crap she's kicked under there at one point or another.

I stop when I find two books that look like they've only recently been pushed under. One is, apparently, the "ultimate" guide for lesbians during pregnancy and the other is a pregnancy sex positions book. I'm amused and a little surprised. I've never seen either of these before.

I flip through the first one and see where Santana dog-eared pages and made notes in the margins. It's kind of adorable to see how far she is willing to go to support me through this less than ideal pregnancy. I've never really questioned why she seems to know so much about each trimester and will occasionally lecture me about staying in a hot shower too long or drinking a Diet Coke.

The second book has circled page numbers and I can't help but peruse to see what pages Santana has secretly circled. By the time I'm done looking at the various positions my girlfriend would evidently like to try I'm somewhat turned on, but when I see her distinctive writing in a margin I'm downright ready to go. Two words and a question mark have me hopelessly turned on.

_**Strap on?**_

With one simple note Santana has managed to get me all sorts of riled up, and I quickly grab my phone.

* * *

**SANTANA**

I hear my phone chime and look up from the umpteenth medical chart I've looked at today.

**Q-Ball and the Kid: You need to come home soon.**

I reply immediately.

**Me: Is everything okay? **

**Q-Ball and the Kid: Yes. I just want you in the worst way.**

_Holy SHIT._

I feel a rush of arousal at Quinn's blunt text. I look at the clock.

**Me: I'll ask Dad if I can leave soon.**

**Q-Ball and the Kid: Hurry. I want to try this.**

Quinn attaches a picture and I nearly fall out of my chair when I open it.

_Well, I guess she found the book._

"Dad! Yo, Dad!"

"Yes, Tana?"

"Can I go? Quinn just texted me and I think she isn't feeling so hot."

My father rolls his eyes at me.

"I'm sure that's the exact opposite of the problem right now, Santana. Go give me a head count of patients we have waiting."

My face burns with embarrassment, but having my parents make the most incredibly awkward comments about my and Quinn's extracurricular activities is nothing new. I almost long for the days where we "hid" from them.

I do a quick count. Less than 10 at the moment. I'm actually really surprised, since it's flu season, but at the same time fewer people tend to come out in bad weather. We're getting some slight rain/sleet, so that's probably why.

"Eight people are waiting, Dad."

"Okay, you can go, but listen to me Santana. Text me as soon as your cousin drops you off. It's getting slippery out there."

"Okay, I will."

I give my dad a quick kiss on the cheek and a smile before I go grab my cousin to drive me home.

"Love you mija."

"Love you Daddio."

* * *

I am texting my father as I pull off my clothes and bound up the stairs. I burst through the door to my room with my shirt in my hand and a grin on my face, only to find Quinn chatting with my mother.

"I, uh, spilled something on my shirt. It's all wet so I just, um, need to grab something dry."

Quinn, for once, looks absolutely mortified, while my mother looks bemused. I quickly yank a new shirt over my head and flash a too-big smile at them.

"So, what's going on?"

_Holy shit this is so fucking awkward._

"Oh nothing, mija. I just came in to check on Quinn, she's been cleaning your messy room all day."

"Oh."

_And now I'm unable to speak full sentences. Great._

"But I was just running out to do some food shopping. Do you girls want anything in particular? Quinn, I know we're out of pickles, I'll get more."

Quinn's mouth closes with her request already noted and she smiles.

"You're the best Mom. I can't wait until the cravings are over," Q says with a head shake.

"Don't hold your breath, when I was pregnant with Santana all I wanted was cashews. I made Miguel get me some while I was actually in labor. But anyway, I better get going."

Mom stands to leave and gives me a kiss on my cheek before heading for the door.

"I'll be back in exactly 2 hours," she calls out as she walks down the stairs.

I shake my head and turn to Q as I close the bedroom door.

"Why didn't you tell me she was here?"

"Why didn't you tell _me_ that you were on your way home?"

"Touché. Equal blame?" I compromise.

"Agreed. 50/50 on this one," my girlfriend accepts without argument.

"Do you still want to…?" I ask hopefully.

"Is that an actual serious question you're asking? I'm pretty sure there's never been a time that I didn't want to with you."

I smile and jump onto the bed, quickly hovering over the gorgeous blonde beauty I'm lucky enough to call mine.

"Still want to try page 33?" I ask teasingly before lowering my mouth to her neck.

"Yes…_oh GOD_…yes, please."


	27. Decisions, Decisions

**QUINN**

It's Valentine's Day weekend. San and I have the house to ourselves for four days since Mr. and Mrs. L decided to take a little getaway vacation. They haven't both been off for Valentine's in years, and they were adorably cute with their excitement as they got ready to go.

Now Santana and I are sitting in a warm bath. I'm leaning back against her with my head on her shoulder. She's slowly running her hands up and down my arms. It feels amazing.

"Are you too tired out for another round?" Santana murmurs softly into my ear.

I smile and turn my head to kiss her jaw.

"Never," I whisper back.

Santana tilts her head to gently kiss me as her hands move down to slide along my thighs. She moves them lazily, her fingertips gliding along my wet skin.

I'm pressing myself back against her harder, my hips involuntarily rising whenever her hands pass closer to my upper thigh.

Santana lets out a breathy laugh at my eagerness.

"I'm afraid DJ has gotten too big to do this right from this angle," she says quietly. "Hang on one second."

I lean forward as San carefully lifts herself and moves around me to kneel in front of me. I pull myself back against the tub and watch Santana come closer.

She straddles my straightened left leg and carefully lifts my right onto the edge of the tub.

I keep my eyes on her face as she positions us; her calm concentration is soothing.

Deep brown eyes meet my own and she leans forward to kiss me slowly, her hands braced on either side of the tub. I lean up into her and focus all of my attention on the sexy wetness of her tongue against mine. Her unhurried movements only serve to increase my wanting and I try to hijack the pace of the kiss.

Santana pulls back with a smile and a quick shake of her head, giving me a warning look.

"Just relax baby, okay?"

"But I want you nowww!" I whine with a pout.

"And you'll have me, soon enough."

San smirks when my pout deepens before she brings her mouth to mine to kiss it away. She moves at the same leisurely pace, evidently dead set on driving me absolutely crazy before she ever touches me.

It takes all of my self-control to keep from trying to push the pace again, but I don't want her to stop and start this process over.

Finally, she shifts her weight so that she can pick her left hand up and place it on my propped up right leg. I watch her hand on my calf until I'm distracted by her mouth once again. My attention jumps wildly between her tongue caressing my top lip and her hand sliding slowly up my leg.

Santana stops kissing me for the slightest of moments to look down at her hand slipping below the surface of the water. I watch her face, gasping when I feel her soft touch just inches away from the one place I want to feel her most.

Her hand stops moving as she kisses me again, and I actually grunt in frustration. I feel Santana laugh against my mouth and I press my lips together to deny her access. My girlfriend shakes her head at me and presses a perfunctory kiss to my sealed lips before trailing hot, moist kisses along my jaw and neck. My whole body lifts when she sucks hard on the skin at my collarbone and I draw in a sharp breath.

Santana pulls back and looks at my face as she slips her fingers lower, spreading my lower lips gently. My hands slap against the nearest surface as my body jerks at her practiced touch. I force my eyes open and watch her watching me. My breath is jumping with every light stroke of her fingers, my muscles flexing involuntarily.

My gaze follows Santana's as she looks down between us. I watch the lean muscles in her arm contract rhythmically as she moves her hand before looking back up to take in her cocky grin and knowing eyes.

The smile drops when she bites her lip and slides two fingers inside me at the same time. My eyes snap shut instantly and I wait for her to move, but Santana keeps her hand still. I know she's waiting for me to look at her, so I slowly open eyes and take in her unbelievably gorgeous face. I pick my hand up and run my thumb along her full bottom lip, noticing again the tiny scar below her lip, the only mark still remaining on her perfect face. She presses her lips to my thumb and begins slowly moving inside of me.

My head falls back when the palm of her hand starts drumming against my clit as she picks up speed.

I know, in some part of my brain, that I am not being quiet. I know that I have reached new levels of language that young Lucy would find absolutely horrifying. I know that my body is flailing to meet Santana's hard thrusts. I know that she is watching me come undone.

I don't care about any of it as I come hard, my back arching, my body rising up with the flex of my right leg draped over the edge of the tub.

Santana slows but doesn't stop, and I open my eyes to see her studying me. I nod my head and she smiles, angling her hand to change the spot she's hitting, steadily stroking me into a second body quaking orgasm. I gasp hard and bring one hand down to grip San's wrist, the other flies up to her shoulder.

Our eyes meet and I smile as I catch my breath. She's used to this by now, I always hold her in place after I finish. Something about having her held to me, inside of me…I love this moment between us.

Santana brings her lips to mine for a lingering kiss and I finally release her wrist to let her slowly slide out of me. She drops a quick peck to my forehead and turns around to let the water out.

I take a deep breath and hold my hands out to be helped up. Sure, strong hands grasp mine and pull me up easily.

"Quick rinse, then straight to the bed," I insist.

"Eager much?"

I just smirk and nod. The only thing I love more than my turn is hers.

* * *

**SANTANA**

It's our last night home alone and we have completely worn one another out. I wasn't sure there was an actual limit for us, but evidently we have discovered it after just over 72 hours alone. Granted, most of those hours have been spent pressed together, naked. It was an impressive display of cardio fitness there for a while, but I'm happy to just be lying here with the prettiest girl I've ever seen.

We're watching one of the artsy movies Quinn seems to enjoy, or at least she is. I keep stealing glances at her face. She amazes me constantly. I mean, she's 16 and nearly 6 months pregnant, yet somehow still manages to be the same goofy dork I've loved since we met. I think I'd be freaking out every single day if I was her, but she seems to almost grow calmer and more…_ready_. I'm not sure exactly what she's getting ready for, though. We haven't really talked about her plans for DJ even though I'm anxious to figure it out; I don't want to pressure her into making a choice before she's ready.

For now, I'm content just to see her smile, hear her laugh, and kiss her lips.

Quinn nuzzles closer to me and my heart fills with happiness yet again.

* * *

**QUINN**

On the first day of March Puck corners me after Glee rehearsal and insists we finally talk. I've agreed to meet him in the library during lunch today. I figure he'll either get lost trying to find it or be unable to cross the threshold like some sort of anti-academia vampire. At the very least we'll have to conduct our conversation quietly, hopefully avoiding any eavesdroppers or emotional yelling. First, I have to tell Santana I won't be at lunch. I should've just told her yesterday when she'd given me a questioning look after my exchange with Puck, but for some reason I'd just shrugged my shoulders and kept my mouth shut. She knows something is up though.

"Hey pretty lady," Santana says before dropping a kiss on my cheek.

We're in the Cheerios locker room, safe from the prying eyes of McKinley.

"Hi, love."

"So what's up with the underground rendezvous? I actually kind of prefer it when you just pull me into a random bathroom and attack my mouth like some kind of kiss monster."

Santana gives me a look that is nothing short of an invitation to start the attack. I laugh lightly and shake my head.

"That was ONE time, San! I'm sorry you have the most kissable lips on earth."

"Why thank you, Miss Fabray. So really, what's up?"

"Puck wants to talk to me about the baby today, and I've agreed to meet him during our lunch hour."

San nods, her face stony and unreadable.

"Okay. Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I think we need to talk alone. I just wanted to let you know so that you wouldn't be worried."

"Alright. Will you text me afterwards and let me know how it goes?"

I flash her a smile.

"Of course."

* * *

**The Night Prior**

"Mom, can I talk to you?"

I sit down at the kitchen table while Momma L puts the clean dishes away.

"Of course, Quinn. What's on your mind?"

My stomach churns nervously. I've avoided this conversation for a long time.

"I was hoping we could talk about…um…what I should do with the baby."

Maribel pauses for an instant before putting down the glass she is holding. She wipes her hands on a dish towel and then comes to sit at the table with me.

"Okay, mija. I'm all ears."

My mouth drops open. I was kind of hoping she'd just tell me what I should do.

"Well…what do you think I should do?"

"I think you should lay out your options and we can talk through all of them. But honestly, sweetheart, I think you know in your heart which way you are leaning, don't you?"

"I…yes. I know what I think I want, I just…I'm afraid that maybe it's not what I'll want when the time comes."

"_Quinn_?"

Santana comes bounding into the kitchen with a smile on her face. She takes one look at me and Mom and falters.

"Is…everything okay?"

My surrogate mom glances at me and answers for us both.

"Yes, Tana, just a little girl talk. Quinn will be upstairs in a bit."

Her tone is light but to the point, and Santana nods silently. Her eyes flicker to mine for an instant before she backs out of the kitchen.

I speak into the silence the follows her departure.

"I feel like no matter what I do my entire world is going to end."

"No, honey, it's just going to change. And you will have Santana, me, and Dad behind you every step of the way. You have been so brave, Quinn. We are so proud of you. You just have to follow your heart on this, even though it's scary. I _promise_ you that whatever path you choose, we will make it work. Do you what you feel is best for you and DJ, and know that, no matter what, we love you. Both of you."

I wipe the tears from my cheeks and nod.

* * *

Puck looks resigned. We've been talking for the past 30 minutes, but we've only just reached a tentative agreement.

"Can I at least be there when she's born?"

I mull this over for a moment. I've only ever envisioned having Santana and Momma L by my side through the delivery ordeal.

I finally nod and Puck lets out a deep breath.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry Quinn."

A smile sneaks onto my face at that.

"Honestly Puck, I'm not. It's not ideal, but I wouldn't undo it."

Noah Puckerman looks like a teenage boy for once, his light eyes soft, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"I'm glad. I'd like for us not to hate each other."

"I promise I don't hate you."

Puck smiles at me.

"I promise I don't hate you either."

* * *

**SANTANA**

I'm waiting just outside the library to make sure Quinn is okay after her little chat. Puck walks by me first, but then takes two steps backward to stand next to me, facing in the opposite direction I am.

We look at each other for a long moment.

"I know you love her, Santana. I'm glad she has you."

I'm frozen in shock, uncertain if he means what I think he means.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone. Just be good to her, okay?"

I nod dumbly, shocked when Puck suddenly wraps his arms around me in a tight embrace.

He walks off without another word and I watch him go, his hands swiping at face as he ducks around a corner.

* * *

Quinn has been acting weird for the last couple of days. I've tried to just give her space, figuring she'd tell me what was up when she was ready, but so far she hasn't let on.

After talking with my mom a couple of nights ago, Q climbed into bed and pulled my arms around her as she cried softly. I got no response when I asked her what was wrong, so I eventually just held her quietly until she fell asleep.

On the other hand, Quinn seemed almost bolstered after her conversation with Puck. She floated through the rest of the day at school as if she weighed a hundred pounds less than she had before, but didn't tell me any specifics about what was said. I haven't talked to her yet about what he said to me, I've been trying to find the right moment.

I'm lying on my bed mulling over what could be going on with my usually forthright best friend when my door cracks open and Quinn walks in holding her sketchbook.

"San, I need to talk to you about something."

I shoot up to a seated position, suddenly nervous.

Quinn sits on my bed next to me and I study her for a long second before blurting out the words I'd been looking for the right time to share.

"Puck knows I love you."

Q looks at me in surprise and then smiles.

"I know. He knows I love you, too."

"How? Aren't you upset? Do you think he's going to tell?"

"I'm not upset, I don't think he's going tell, and I confirmed his suspicions during our conversation earlier today."

"You…_confirmed his suspicions_? What the hell, Quinn? Don't you think that's something we should've talked about first?"

Quinn looks sincerely contrite when she answers.

"Yes, I wish we had talked about it, but I wasn't expecting the question at all. He point-blank asked me if I am in love with you. My hesitation really said it all, but honestly it just made the conversation that followed a lot easier. Please don't be mad, San. I didn't mean to out us to him."

I consider her words. I doubt that I'd react much better to a surprise question like that. Everything in my brain would be screaming _YES!_ if someone asked me if I'm in love with Quinn. I sigh.

"He told me he's glad you have me and he promised he wouldn't tell, so I guess it could be worse," I finally concede.

"Well, we had a long conversation about how important you are to me. Puck was hoping he and I would somehow end up together with little DJ here as one big happy family. It was a tough hit to his ego to find out that the amazing girl he let slip through his fingers is the only one his baby momma wants to have a family with."

I have to laugh at that. I can't even imagine Noah Puckerman trying to process that two girls he has slept with would prefer to sleep with each other than with him.

_Wait. _

"What did you just say?"

Quinn looks down at the sketchbook and then hands it to me. I take it, looking at her questioningly before I open it.

I look once again at portraits of me, now including some brilliantly drawn ones of my face during various stages of bruising and recovery. They are poignant in an unexpected way. Her drawings exude both vulnerability and determination. Her careful pencil strokes managed to capture the dichotomy of my emotions mirroring the two halves of my face. I smile at her and keep turning the pages.

I see once again the amazing drawings of our significant moments that Quinn shared with me at Christmas.

_If Only I Had Realized That You Were Always Really The Only Choice For Me_

I grin at the memory of that morning and my discovery of my girlfriend's amazing secret talent.

A new page is filled with 6 different drawings of Quinn representing each month of her pregnancy thus far. She's incredible and breathtaking, even in art.

I turn the page again and stop breathing. The picture before me is…

I'm lying on my side, looking at Quinn. We're smiling at each other. Between us lies a tiny little baby, swaddled tightly in a blanket.

Written alongside the image is a note similar to the one she'd left for me before.

_I __Finally__ Realized That You Are The Only Choice for __**US**_

My eyes snap up to Quinn's face, searching her expression. She looks steadily back at me for a moment.

"Santana, I want to keep the baby. I know we are really young, and I know this is a lot, but I talked to your parents earlier and we've come up with a plan. Before any definite decisions are made, though, I want to know how you feel about this. So…how do you feel about having the baby here with us?"

I have no words. There are no words. I'm not even sure I know what words are anymore.

In the absence of words, I kiss her.

I'm thrilled. I'm terrified. I'm every emotion there is.

I kiss her like there's no tomorrow.


	28. All In The Family (And Sue Sucks)

**A/N: Happy Weekend Everyone! **

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana, Puck, and I are debating baby names. This discussion has been ongoing for the better part of a month, but somehow it never gets tiring. It's been a mostly civil process, with only two instances of the silent treatment being invoked. Things seem to be falling into place better than I could have hoped.

Santana had initially balked when I told her that Puck deserved to be a part of this process too, but she has come around without too much of a fight. For his part, Noah has done an admirable job of accepting that San and I are really, truly together. The first few days were a little rough, a volley of insults being fired from the precision weapon that is Santana's tongue every time Puck made an inappropriate sexual comment about her and me. He finally quit it after my fiery girlfriend had turned ice cold and asked to speak to him alone. Whatever she said did the trick, because since then we've existed in relative harmony.

"I don't understand why Jackie Daniels is such a terrible name," Puck insists.

"You're an idiot, Puck. That's the worst of your shitty suggestions yet," Santana snaps back at him.

"Guys…"

I give them both a warning look to get them to cool it.

"Come on, Quinn. That's the worst name suggestion of all time!"

For some reason I suddenly remember Finn looking proud of himself as he dropped a note on my desk.

"Actually, Finn suggested the name Drizzle. For real," I reply to San with a smile.

"No way," Puck says, looking incredulous.

"Yes way. He thought it was brilliant because Gwyneth Paltrow named her kid Apple."

Both Puck and Santana burst out laughing together and I know I've averted an argument.

"But seriously guys, we need to really think about names because we only have like 7 or 8 weeks left until she's here," I chastise.

"Q, she'll have a name, don't worry."

"Yeah, a kick ass, _perfect_ name. I'm actually a little concerned that our little girl is going to be too awesome. I mean how is she going to fit in when she's 100% cooler and more badass than any of the other kids?"

Puck actually looks serious about this, but I laugh until I notice that Santana has a similar look of concern on her face.

"He has a point, Quinn. We're going to have to teach her to tone down her awesome somehow."

"You guys have to be kidding me. Can we worry about naming her first? Or perhaps we could worry about the fact that she still has to actually be born, which is going to be an excruciatingly painful affair for me. Or maybe we should show some concern that we're teenagers about to raise a kid with two moms and a dad in O-fucking-hio. Or, you know, _definitely_ worry about her being too _awesome_. That should totally be the number one concern here," I snap sarcastically.

Puck and Santana look at each other, abashed.

"Sorry," they mumble in unison, giving me sad puppy dog eyes.

I want so badly to stay mad, but the two of them are freaking adorably contrite. I shake my head as a slow smile spreads across my face despite a valiant effort on my part to fight it off.

"You guys are dorks. Forgiven dorks. But dorks just the same."

* * *

**SANTANA**

So Sue has returned to her full douchebag glory in one swift, although not altogether surprising, asshole move. Our competition season is long over, yet for some reason we're still having 3 hour practices complete with psychotic yelling and unnecessary body shaming.

It amazes me that this woman can be so supportive and protective of this squad at times, but still uses her words to viciously tear us down on a regular basis. Still, nothing she has ever said reached me in a personal way like her declaration that she's going to crush the Glee Club as a judge at regionals.

Ever since sectionals I have felt a weird defensiveness for this ragtag group of weirdos, which was only compounded when they rallied to my defense after I went all Blood Sport on my cousin and her lame ass friends. I can't let her do this without putting up whatever fight I can.

I nudge Brittany and link my pinkie to hers as soon as practice is over and lead her over to Coach.

"You can't do this, Coach. We've worked too hard to go out like this."

Sue turns and looks at me in shock.

"I really hope you aren't serious right now, Frida Kahlo. You were allowed to join that club in order to bring it down and now you have decided to _betray_ me to defend it?"

GOD this bitch completely infuriates me. Frida Kahlo is _hideous_ and I'm not even Mexican! I miraculously avoid snapping at her for insulting me and focus on the real problem here.

"Why do you even care if Glee exists? It obviously didn't affect our ability to kick ass and take names at Nationals. We don't NEED the extra money. You are just being unnecessarily vindictive. This underhanded bullshit has _got_ to stop!"

I can see Britt's eyes widen at my language and tone. She's generally anti-conflict, but I think she's actually concerned that I might completely lose it when she releases my pinkie and grabs my hand fully instead.

"Listen to me and listen good, Lopez. The Glee Club is done. If you want to stay in that uniform, choose your words very carefully from here on out."

Brittany squeezes my hand as if to say "drop it." I feel the hot wave of anger I know so well rise through my body. I bite back my urge to tear into her and instead choose my words carefully, just as she said I should.

"You once told me that I'm strongest when I care most. And I think you know just how true that is. So you should hear this: I care about this club a whole shit ton more than you can imagine. I will do _anything—_AN-Y-THING_—_to keep this club alive."

I march away abruptly, feeling the sudden urge to cry hit me like a ton of bricks. I get to my Cheerios locker, but don't bother trying to open it. Instead, I lean my hands against the cool metal and hang my head.

The frustration is almost too much. I want to lash out at something so badly, and settle on pounding the bottom of my clenched hand sharply against the locker, letting out an exasperated growl at the same time.

Brittany walks into the locker room, her mouth twisted to the side in concern. I look at her and feel my shoulders immediately sag. She walks over and straddles the bench, then grabs my hand and pulls me down to sit with her.

"It's gonna be okay, San."

"How do you figure? Sure I _care_ a lot, but there's really nothing I can actually do. Threaten to quit Cheerios, maybe. But that's only going to work so many times before she just lets me quit. And I'm almost certain she actually knows how much I need this now. Quinn and I…I'm pretty sure we're not as good at hiding our relationship as we like to think we are. And now that we're keeping the baby…Britt…I don't know what to do. We're going to lose the Glee Club and I'm going to have to just be this stupid prop cheerleader that Sue can use as a puppet just so that I can _try_ to shield us from some of the ignorant hate that is bound to be waiting for us."

Brittany looks at me with such empathy and love that the tears return. She pulls me against her and lets me sob softly into her shoulder for a bit before pulling back and looking me in the eye.

"Listen, Santana. Whatever happens with Glee is _not_ on your shoulders. You've done more than anyone could ask of you to try to save it. Everyone realizes you're stuck between a Schue and a Sylvester, which is like a hundred times worse than a rock or a hard place. You can't take the responsibility for saving a school club from warring teachers onto yourself, okay? And if you don't want to be a Cheerio, you don't have to be. You're right, people are probably going to make snide comments. But you have an entire Glee Club and a whole bunch of Cheerios that will stand beside you and fight alongside you if necessary—because they know you'd do the same for them. You aren't alone. Quinn isn't alone. Puck isn't alone. You have each other, and you have us. I can't _wait_ to be Aunt Brittany to this kid, and I can't _wait_ to tell her stories about how much her moms and her dad loved her before she was even born. You know I'm definitely going to be coolest aunt ever. Kids love me. "

I can't keep the smile from my face when I picture a little miniature Quinn playing with Aunt Brittany. It's a beautiful image.

"And can I tell you something else, Santana?"

I nod, sniffling.

"You are going to be the _best_ mom there ever was. For real, just the absolute best. I know your mom and dad are technically going to be the baby's guardians until Quinn is 18, but we both know you guys are going to raise her together from day one. You two make the most incredible answer to any equation I've ever seen, seriously."

I laugh a little bit and then smile at my best friend. It was on this very bench five months ago that she told me exactly what I needed to hear about Quinn and me. She's really something else.

"I love you, Britt. You've…you somehow make all of this craziness make sense. I don't know where I'd be without you," I confess honestly.

"I love you too, Sanny. And I'm guessing you'd probably still be doing some really terrible mathematical problem solving," she replies with a slight grin. "Now let's get changed so we can go meet Quinn at her appointment."

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana and Britt are supposed to be here for my sonogram, but they haven't shown up yet. Puck keeps reassuring me that they'll be here soon, but I really want them to see this and I can't imagine what could possibly keep San from missing it.

**Me: Where are you guys?**

It's the third text I've sent in the last 15 minutes. This time, instead of just Santana, I text Britt too. As soon as I hit send my name is called and I reluctantly get up.

Just as I'm led into the room I hear a commotion behind me and suddenly my two best friends come bursting through the door.

"Did we miss it?!" Brittany is looking wildly around as if there should be a giant movie screen with an image of the baby projected on it.

I smile happily, relieved that they're both here.

"No, they're backed up, we just got in here. I was texting you, where were you?" I ask my question in San's direction.

"Sorry, beautiful. I accidentally left my phone in my Cheerios locker. I had a little scrap with Sue today and it threw me off a bit."

Santana walks to my side and quickly casts her eyes at Puck, Britt, and the ultrasound tech before evidently deciding that she doesn't care who sees her kiss me. It's a gentle, apologetic kiss, and I love her so much for it. Puck and Britt both smile, and Puck kindly averts his eyes instead of staring in his normal manner.

"Okay, are we ready to see your little one at 32 weeks?" the tech asks, holding up the ultrasound wand thingy expectantly.

We all nod silently, nervous anticipation settling in.

The cold gel hits my belly, followed by the wand, and we immediately hear a strong, steady heartbeat.

Santana squeezes my hand, and I see Noah and Brittany wrap an arm loosely around each other in a casual hug.

"Annnnnd…there she is! 10 fingers, 10 toes!"

The tech holds her hand in place and turns the screen that we can get a better look at our little DJ.

There is a collective intake of air. She's so _big_.

A couple of print outs are produced and passed around. The tech rattles off her estimated size and weight to more nodding. Santana pulls out a pen and scribbles the information on her hand.

"Thank you," Santana says quietly.

The tech gives our little group a big smile.

"Overall, everything looks great. She's big, she's got a strong heartbeat. She looks to be right on pace to be born at the end of May, maybe early June. Have you picked a name yet?"

My two co-parents and I exchange looks and Brittany laughs before answering for us.

"I've been listening to them argue over this for _weeks_, trust me you don't want to start that debate up right now. But, just between you and me, I'm pushing kinda hard for Brittany Susan Pierce. It's a pretty fantastic name."

* * *

**SANTANA**

Puck is complaining, yet again, that he doesn't have an equal say in the naming process because Quinn and I will always back each other up against him.

"That's not true!" Quinn insists.

"We obviously haven't been "backing each other" up, doofus, or we'd already have a name. We've vetoed each other's options too," I inform him, quite reasonably, I might add.

"San, don't call him names."

Puck makes a smug face in my direction and I scowl at him.

"Why don't we each pick our favorite two names and then we can have the kids in Glee vote. I think that's the fairest way for us all to have a say," Puck suggests stupidly.

"No way! We can't let a group of kids we might never speak to after high school name our kid. That's ridiculous. Quinn, tell him we're not doing that."

"Well, I mean, we don't have to let it be a binding decision, babe. We can let them vote and get some input and see if it at least helps. We're obviously stuck," Quinn replies with an uncertain shrug of her shoulders.

I huff in annoyance.

"Fine. But Puck you now have zero ammunition about how we always side with one another, because clearly Quinn is now on _your_ side," I intone sarcastically.

Q throws her head back in frustration and lets out an irritated sigh.

"Jesus, Santana. This is a team! All three of us! You can't make me feel guilty every time I agree with Puck on something!"

"Okay, okay. This is a _fantastic_ idea, and I just can't _wait_ to see the results!"

I say it in a too-sweet voice and Quinn rolls her eyes at me in exasperation.

"You're a baby."

"I am not."

Puck's eyes go back and forth between us in amusement.

"Yes, you are. You're being a child about this."

"Well, _technically_, I am a child, so…"

"Seriously? That's seriously what you want to go with right there?"

Noah Puckerman's short laugh burns through me and my petulance turns into actual anger.

"You know what? You guys name her. She's _your_ fucking kid anyway."

With that I hop up and leave, slamming the door behind me.

I've made it down the stairs and out my front door before the guilt fills me. I know what I just said hurt Quinn. She's been trying really hard to make sure I feel like I'm an equal in this totally fucked up parenting situation.

Only my pride keeps my feet moving at first, but soon all of my emotions boil up inside of me. I start running, picking up speed until I'm nearly sprinting. My legs carry me as fast as my lungs will let me go, and before long I'm at the elementary school that I transferred to when my parents finally made enough cash to move us from the ghetto.

This is where I met Puck.

I sit on a swing on the playground and let my toes push me back and forth. I hate that I've basically just proven my own snarky statement true. I _am_ a child, and a temperamental, immature child that. My chest squeezes as I think about what Quinn must be thinking and feeling. I'm ashamed, but I can't seem to get my butt up to go home and face the music.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here when my phone suddenly buzzes in my hand. I can't believe I haven't noticed I've been holding it all this time.

**Q-Ball and the Kid: Please come home. It's getting dark.**

My eyes tear up and I cry quietly into my hands for a minute. I abruptly stop and run my now running nose along the back of my hand, ever the classy bitch.

Just as I stand up to head home, headlights wash over me from the parking lot and I freeze. I'm in a playground at night, all alone. I'm pretty sure whoever is coming here is not someone I want to meet.

The lights click off and I'm relieved to hear Puck's voice.

"Yeah I found her. We'll be back in a bit."

He puts his phone in his pocket and continues walking towards me without a word.

Puck stands in front of me for a moment with an apprehensive look on his face before stepping around me to sit on a swing. I take a deep breath and sit back on the one I just vacated a minute ago. We toe-push ourselves in silence for a minute.

"I remember when you first moved here. We were…what? 8 or 9? You seemed like the coolest girl in the world. Every other girl had cooties, but you…all of us guys wanted to be your friend. You could actually keep up at recess and you didn't mind getting a few cuts and bruises. Plus, you were from Adjacent, which most of us had never even seen because our parents were too scared to drive near it. Then we started to grow up and you just kept on being cooler than everyone else. We all got awkward, but you just kept being _Santana_ _Lopez_, only suddenly with boobs, which really just made you one thousand percent cooler in my book. Next thing I know we're in high school and you are basically out of everyone's league, including mine, because you look like you just walked out of Maxim magazine and into the wet dreams of every single guy in school, once again, including mine."

I scrunch my face in disgust and Puck laughs before continuing.

"Anyway, you spend all of freshman year being this smokin' hot, untouchable babe who's always with another smokin' hot, untouchable babe. I must have gotten whiplash a hundred times watching you two walk down the hall in those damn skirts. Playing football on the worst team imaginable with you hotties on the sideline was no small feat, either. By this point I've come to accept the fact that you're completely uninterested in me, but I figure, hell, I'll give it a shot with your sidekick and see what happens. She kisses me, then takes off looking for you. You two exchange some terse words and you chase after her."

My eyes sting at the memory and I wonder what his fucking point is in bringing this shit up.

"The next thing I know you're all about getting you some Puckgasms and you couldn't be more of a bitch to your BFF if you tried. And stupid Puck here thinks, 'Man, they must both be really into me and now they're fighting over me. I am The SAW.' But the thing is, when you guys reunite, I suddenly notice that you guys look at each other how I look at Quinn. Then the fight happens and slowly I begin to wonder, because I've never seen Quinn so distraught. Not even when she found out she was pregnant. Then one day you're all annoyed with something the Jewish girl in Glee is saying, and I see Quinn reach her hand out to calm you and as soon as you feel her touch, your whole body relaxes, just like that. And, just like that, I realized that there was definitely something between you two. Because I've known you since you were a little kid, and I've never seen anyone take the fury out of your eyes with just a touch."

Puck shakes his head and laughs a little.

"Anyway, my point here is that I've known you a long time, and I've always thought that you are easily the coolest girl I know. I know I get under your skin a lot because you're mad that I got Quinn pregnant, and I deserve that, I know I do. Any idiot with two eyes can see that you love each other and belong together, and I don't want to come between you guys at all, but please give me a chance to be a part of this. You and Quinn are awesome, and I know you don't need my help, but I just really want to be a better human being than my father. I don't ever want my kid to wonder how I could live in the same town as her and not be a part of her life. So please, Santana. I'm begging you."

I look at him in surprise, unsure how this is where we ended up. I didn't say anything about him not being a part of this.

"Puck, I…I know you need to be a part of this. I accepted that a long time ago."

"No, I know that, dude, but…we can't have petty fights like this that lead to fights between you and Quinn. If push comes to shove, she _will_ choose you. Every time. And she should, honestly, because she loves you and because you're going to be an amazing parent. So if she thinks this can't work because we can't get along, then it won't and I'll be sent packing."

Puck's face is so sincere and open I feel like I'm almost looking at a stranger.

"She wouldn't do that to you," I say quietly.

"She would if she thought it was best for her family. You and that little girl are her family now."

I consider this for a moment, because I can suddenly see what he is saying. Quinn _would_ protect us by any means necessary. Sometimes I see that flash of motherly protectiveness in her and it's always kind of shocking because I associate it with grownups, not my best friend. I sigh.

"You're probably right. I'm sorry, Puck. I know what I said was pretty shitty."

He nods, not refuting my statement.

"Yeah, it was. Quinn was pretty hurt. I'm sorry too, I'll do my best to not irritate you so much."

"Good luck with that," I say teasingly. "Can you take me home now? I need to talk to Quinn."

"Can I get a hug first?"

I roll my eyes, and then stand and embrace Puck tightly.

"Thanks for being awesome, Santana."

"Thanks for coming to find me."

"Yeah, well, we're family now."

* * *

**QUINN**

When Santana walks back into our room I feel a violent clash of emotions. I'm so mad at her, but also so worried. She's standing quietly by the door, looking small. I get up and quickly move in front of her, wrapping her in a tight hug before kissing her with feeling.

Just as quickly I back away and sit down.

"You scared the shit out of me, San. You can't just run off on foot like that and stay out when it's getting dark. What if-"

"I know, baby. I'm sorry. I was too ashamed of myself to come back right away and then I just felt so guilty I couldn't face you. I'm so sorry for what I said, Quinn. You know I don't really feel that way," she's staring at her feet as she apologizes, clearly repentant.

"You know, at first, I actually kind of questioned whether you feel that way or not, but Puck insisted that I was being crazy and that you love this little girl as if she were your own. And I couldn't help but remember your face when you saw her for the first time, or at the most recent sonogram, or when you first felt her kick, or when you drum for her. I know you love her, Santana. But you can't say shit like that and run off, okay? I really need you."

"I know. Puck and I talked and…I think we're good. I'm sorry I worried you and made you question my commitment to this at all, but I'm here and I love you and we're going to do this."

Santana looks certain, her back straight and her shoulders squared. I get up and walk to her, giving her a passionate kiss before pulling away wearing a grin.

"Okay then. Let's do this.


	29. It's About That Time

**A/N: **Huge thank you to everyone who has followed this story or reviewed. Your feedback definitely helps, and as a reward for your awesomeness, I've decided to hold off on naming the baby until you guys get a chance to give your input. Feel free to put your suggestion in a review, a PM, or if you feel really crazy, go ahead and send them to me on tumblr (solvethebomb). I hope you enjoy this chapter, and not to worry, the next is almost finished. So get those recommendations in soon! Happy Tuesday.

* * *

**SANTANA**

When the Glee kids find out about Sue's plan to finally destroy the club, all hell breaks loose. I watch their wallowing with a sad helplessness, feeling somehow responsible for their misery. It's hard to believe that not long ago I hated every single one of them. I can't even remember why anymore, but I think it had something to do with the fact that they're all willing to put doing what they love above being popular. They have a certain courage that I'm not sure I'll ever possess.

Even now, I've been carefully plotting how to spin the rumor mill once Quinn has her baby. The fact that her shitty parents booted her out helps a lot, actually. My _awesome_ parents and Q have devised a plan to ensure that her as-yet-to-be-named baby girl is properly provided for. In essence, my parents are going to take financial responsibility for the baby until Quinn is able to provide for her, sometime after she finishes college. For now, they'll also be the baby's (and Quinn's) legal guardians until Q is 18, but they'll probably remain in that role for the baby until Quinn is fully prepared to take custody. There's been a lot of paperwork. All I really know is that I love my parents to death for being willing to do whatever it takes for Quinn to keep her kid.

All of this will help explain why Quinn and I will essentially be raising her kid together, with Puck too, of course. Quinn told me that he wrote her a long letter apologizing for how he treated her and for how irresponsible he was. I've known him a long time, and I've never known Puck to change his behavior for anyone. Suddenly though, he seems to be willing to make the effort to not just be present, but also be a good role model. He's actually quit all of the partying and cutting class and beating kids up and stealing stuff, from what I can tell. Most importantly, he has guarded my and Quinn's relationship as if his life depends on it. I'm a skeptic, but I want to believe he's really changed. I guess we'll find out.

Sue hasn't spoken to me since our disagreement last week. She relays all comments through Brittany, except she says them pretty loud and I can always hear her. The squad is confused as all hell, but whatever. I stand by what I said. This vendetta is pathetic, but I still don't have a plan to stop her.

Overall, this has been a crazy few weeks, and as I plop down into my seat in the choir room, I feel myself dreading the looks of sad defeat in the eyes of my fellow Glee clubbers. I keep my eyes cast to the floor, even as I sense Quinn quietly sit down next to me. I don't look up until I hear Mr. Schue start explaining that we're doing a Journey medley for regionals. I feel my heart jumpstart, because I know we can kill those songs.

"Not only that, but to help us keep perspective, we're going to kick this meeting off by helping one of our own with an important part of her journey. Quinn has asked that we help her, Santana, and Puck name the baby."

I look up in surprise; I hadn't realized Quinn had actually asked him. I'm suddenly curious what they'll choose though, since we certainly haven't been able to decide on our own.

"They've each selected three names, and we're all going to vote. So without further ado, can you guys go write your name choices on the board? I'll hand out slips of paper."

The three of us get up and head to the board, but I stop when I hear Finn say my name.

"Umm, why is Santana getting to put up choices? If she's putting names up then I think we all should."

I feel something flare in my chest that I can't place. Anger, yes, but there's more to it. Hurt, maybe? Disappointment? I know that, to an outsider, it _doesn't_ make any sense. I turn to look at Quinn, unsure how to handle this, when Puck speaks up.

"Seriously, dude? Santana has been there for Quinn when no one else really was. Did you know she hasn't missed a single sonogram appointment since Quinn moved into her house? Or that when Quinn hyperventilated Santana was the only reason she didn't get hurt worse? And that bullshit fight she was in? That crazy bitch threatened to hurt Quinn _and_ the baby, so San beat her stupid face in. Santana deserves to pick a name more than I do. All I did was screw up. So shut it, okay?"

Puck has walked over to put an arm around my shoulder and guide me to the board. I give him a thankful smile and Quinn smiles at us both. The other Glee clubbers are looking at Finn likes he's a huge idiot, which of course he is, and he doesn't bother trying to reply.

"Now, you guys can put up to three names on your piece of paper, but they'll all get equal weight, so you can't order them. If you only want to vote for one, then by all means just write one. I'll collect up your votes when it looks like everyone is done," Mr. Schue explains.

We finish carefully writing our names on the board and then sit together, separate from the group as they vote. I look at the board and read the names again:

Puck: Lily, Beth, Lorelai

Santana: Valerie, Ryder, Skylar

Quinn: Michelle, Kate, Emily

I know for a fact that Puck picked his names entirely from song names from the Rolling Stones, KISS, and Styx. They aren't terrible name choices, now that I'm reading them on the board, but I think her name needs _meaning_.

My names were all chosen after rigorous research because they represent qualities I want little DJ to have when she's growing up. Valerie means "Strength," Ryder means "Warrior," and Skylar means "Scholar." With the parents this little girl has, I'm pretty sure she'll live up to all of these names. I wish I could explain that to the group. I haven't actually even fully explained it to Puck and Quinn.

Quinn's choices are a kind of a combination of mine and Puck's methodology. I know that Michelle is from a Beatles song that Q apparently loves, Kate means "Pure", and Emily means "To Excel." I'm pretty sure the last two names also have old-timey songs associated with them, but I don't know what they are. It's so _Quinn_ to pick such classic, popular names though.

Mr. Schuester starts collecting up all of the scraps of paper from the group. Quinn looks over at Puck and me and smiles that big, megawatt smile that I love so much. She's so excited that I feel like a jackass for not going along with this idea in the first place. I'm all for anything that makes my girl this happy.

"Okay guys, it looks like everyone voted for at least one of the names on the board, except for one of you, who voted for "Quinntana," "Santittany," and "Brittany S. Pierce.""

I let out a sudden, single laugh and turn to look at Britt. Everyone else in the club turns to look at her too.

"Best names, by far," my brilliant bestie states with a shrug.

Every single person in the room shakes their head with a smile. Quinn turns to me with a grin that I return with a soft laugh. Brittany really _is_ going to be the best aunt ever.

"Okay, Finn, drum roll please!"

Hudson hops up and jogs to sit behind the drum set. He starts the drum roll, and I hold my breath.

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana has been in Sue's office for 20 minutes in a last ditch effort to stop the inevitable crushing of Glee club. We're supposed to be leaving shortly for regionals. Every now and then I can hear a raised word or two, but mostly I just hear garbled disagreeing. I'm nervously awaiting the emergence of my girlfriend, knowing she's going to be upset and disappointed. Reasoning with Sue is pointless when she's hell-bent on achieving her mission.

All Santana would tell me is that she has to _try_. I don't think she even has a plan, or a scheme, or a bribe. She has no cards up her sleeve on this one. The girl who refuses to ask for help, who believes that showing weakness is the worst imaginable flaw to expose, is in that office _begging_ the most horrible person on earth for a reprieve for the Glee club. I'm proud of her, but also bummed for her. I know that I'm going to have either angry Santana or resigned Santana on my hands for a while. Angry Santana would actually be preferable, because her fiery temper usually passes quickly once the subject of her ire is no longer available to insult. Plus, the comments she makes in her anger are generally _hilarious_. Resigned Santana is just depressing, and there is no telling how long it'll last.

I shoot to my feet when the door swings hastily open and Santana storms out, slamming the door shut behind her. She takes me in for a second, drawing a deep breath. Her eyes close as she shakes her head and drops her chin to her chest.

Without really considering that we're standing in the middle of the hallway, I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, rocking gently. She leans into me without hesitation. We jump apart in shock when Sue's door swings back open.

"So, preggers, I hear you are keeping your ill-conceived fetus. That true?"

"Yes, Coach Sylvester. I have decided to keep my daughter," I reply with an irritated sigh.

"Huh. Well, good luck with that. I'm sure you two will raise a great kid. Hopefully I'll see her on the Cheerios one day. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to bring doom upon one William Schuester and his endless parade of hideous sweater vests."

Sue steps around us and strides off without another word. Santana and I gape after her, in complete and utter shock.

"Did she just…?"

Santana is lost for words.

"I…think…so…?"

I've got nothing better, and we look at each other for a long second before we both start laughing like complete idiots.

_Sue Sylvester_ just wished us luck in raising a baby as if it was completely normal for her to do so. I feel like I've just walked into some weird, upside down Twilight Zone. Santana told me months ago that she suspected Coach had some sort of inkling as to the nature of our relationship, but she's never said anything quite so…blunt…in support of us both before. I don't think San will forgive Sue any time soon for destroying the Glee club, but this is definitely a mark in the plus column.

"Let's go catch the bus," Santana finally says, and we head toward the parking lot.

DJ hasn't stopped moving the entire ride to regionals. Every now and then I feel a slight cramping in my lower back that moves towards the front of my stomach. It doesn't last long though. I think there is just a lot going on in there today. The baby definitely feels like she's shifting.

Pretty much everyone in Glee has put their hands on my belly to feel her sudden kicks, and the entire group has harmonized songs for her. We're in surprisingly good spirits considering what we're going up against in a little bit.

When the group has finally quieted down, Santana turns to me, her eyes soft and serious, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you for waiting for me today. Seeing your face always makes me feel immediately better."

I smile at her and take her hand in mine, glancing across the aisle at Kurt and Mercedes, who are engaged in an animated conversation.

"Of course, babe. And just so you know, no matter what happens today, you are the hero of this club. Most importantly, you're _my_ hero."

Santana looks away, adorably embarrassed. I want to kiss her so bad, but I'm pretty sure that would not go on unnoticed.

Brittany bounds back to us and squeezes into our seat with us.

"Hey Britt, what's up?" Santana asks with a giggle.

"Nothing, I just wanted to be near you guys. Something tells me I should stick close to you both, particularly Quinn. And when something tells me, I listen."

San and I exchange a confused glance before Santana shrugs and just accepts Britt's weird assertion like she normally does. I trust my girlfriend's instincts and accept it as well.

The three of us laugh and sing together for the rest of the drive.

* * *

**SANTANA**

The second I hear Rachel Berry start singing I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise and goosebumps cover my skin. She's so fucking talented. For the first time, I allow hope to fill my chest. We're really good. Maybe, just maybe, Sue will see that and feel guilty screwing us just to beat Mr. Schue.

When the curtain rises, the cheers bring an unexpected smile to my face. We join in with Finn and Rachel. It sounds amazing. One song down, and we totally killed it.

We jump into our mash up of "Anyway You Want It" and "Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'." The crowd is on their feet, clapping. I turn to Quinn as choreographed and see her eyes positively glowing with happy excitement as she shimmies her shoulders. I feel her joy run through me. Puck kills his little solo and before I know it we're already to the part of the song where we get to freestyle and go crazy and then we're on to "Don't Stop Believing"

Once again, fucking Berry and that voice. I'm nervous. I have gained a lot of confidence in my voice, but I have to follow _Rachel_. All at once I'm singing with Puck and I give him a big smile. We are _killing _this competition right now. We jump around like crazy people during the guitar solo and I see Quinn place a hand against her stomach. Her happy smile pushes away the flash of concern I feel, and in seemingly just seconds the song is over.

We run out the stage exit, completely caught up in the wave of excitement from nailing our entire set list. I'm one of the last people down the stairs and I feel a sudden cold fury when I see Judy Fabray, suddenly back from the abyss and talking to _my_ Quinn.

I want to lash out and pull Quinn away from her, but I know Q wouldn't want that. Instead I give a slight squeeze to my girlfriend's hand as I pass, throwing a quick glare over my shoulder at the prodigal parent who hurt her daughter immeasurably.

I step just inside the door and listen in, leaning just far enough to see the back of Quinn's head. I don't have to turn my head to know that the person who has slipped their hand in mine and is standing quietly next to me is Brittany.

"What are you doing here?" Quinn asks, sounding truly shocked. "Is dad okay?"

My heart clenches when she asks about her dad. That guy is such a dick, but he's still her dad. She loves them even though they've treated her so badly. I close my eyes and will myself to stay where I am.

"I came to hear you sing," her deadbeat, asshole mother responds. "You were wonderful. I'm so sorry I missed all the other times you've performed. Were there a lot?"

Quinn glances back and makes the briefest eye contact with me. I can't read her at all, except to see the blank, confused expression on her face.

"I left your father. Well, I- I kicked him out actually. He was having an affair with some, uh, tattooed freak."

There's a brief, quiet pause. Quinn is silent.

"Quinnie…"

Quinn hates that nickname, unless Brittany says it along with "the Pooh." I cringe immediately when I hear it.

"I want you to come home with me. I can turn the guest room into a nursery."

Pure, unadulterated fear and hate fill me.

_Fuck. This. Bitch. _

Quinn _has_ a family. She can't leave us.

"Oh sweetie, say something."

I'm consumed with anger until I hear Quinn's soft, surprisingly calm voice.

"My water just broke."

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana is around the door and between my mother and me in a flash. She takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom without so much as a glance at my mom. She allows Brittany inside and then snaps the lock in place. I go into a stall and clean myself up while Brittany and Santana wait.

"San, it's early. She's too early."

"Only slightly, babe. She's fine. Plenty of babies are born at 36 weeks and have no issues at all. Are you feeling contractions?"

"Kind of? I think? They don't hurt very badly if that's what this is."

I've been feeling a dull ache every 15 minutes for a while now, but it's not particularly painful. I know contractions slowly get worse, but I figured they'd be more noticeable than this.

"How long ago did it start?" Santana asks.

"I don't know, when we were on the bus I guess."

I emerge from the stall and look at my two best friends. Their calm faces quiet my growing nerves.

"Okay, well since this is your first time, this could take a while. I think we should go to the hospital just in case though."

I frown.

"But I want to be here when we win."

San and Britt shake their heads at me. Santana opens her mouth to argue with me, but before she makes a sound I feel a _much_ stronger contraction that steals my breath away.

I double over slightly and suck in a sharp breath at the pain. Santana and Brittany immediately move to my side and grab my hands. The pain passes in a minute and I get a meaningful "I told you so" look from my girlfriend.

"Okay, okay. Let's go to the hospital."

Santana smiles and then kisses me, her hands gently cupping my face.

"We're going to finally meet our little kicker, Q. I'm going to be with you the whole way, I promise."

I lean my head against hers and take a deep breath before putting an arm out to pull Brittany into a three-way hug. A small nervous shiver runs through me, and my two best friends respond by giving me a little squeeze.

Brittany pulls back and looks at us with a grin.

"I knew I should stick close. Let's go do this, yes?"


	30. So Engulfed By LOVE

**A/N: I wanted to hold off and not post this too quickly, but once I finish a chapter I get too antsy and have to post it, so here you go! Thanks for the input via review, PMs, etc. I hope you guys like the name and enjoy this chapter.**

**A/N 2: I'll be away for the weekend celebrating my birthday, but I'll have a chapter up again sometime afterward. I hope you all have fabulous weekends!**

* * *

**SANTANA**

I call my parents as we leave the bathroom and start leading Quinn out of the building. My parents are out to the parking lot before we are, and the car is waiting when we make it out there. Quinn's mother is buzzing around like an irritating insect as we walk. Once I've loaded Q in the car, I turn to Judy, ready to speak my mind. My own mother puts a hand on my arm and inclines her head towards the car, indicating I should shut my mouth and get in. I roll my eyes and climb in next to Quinn while my mother addresses the problem.

"Judy, the car is a bit full, but if you'd like to follow us, we're headed to Lima General."

"She's my daughter, Maribel. I should take her. And why Lima General instead of St. Charles?"

Mom glances down at Quinn and me, we're both watching and listening to this conversation. She reaches out and closes the car door. Quinn squeezes my hand as another contraction hits, and I soothe her as I watch the now-silent showdown between our moms.

My mother is pointing at Judy, her face taut and her eyes furious. I can tell she's giving Q's mom the business and that she has lost any restraint at this point. With one final, punctuated point of her finger, Mom turns and gets in the car.

"How are we doing, girls?"

I look at Quinn, breathing deeply with her eyes closed, and decide to answer for her.

"Her contractions seem to be getting stronger."

My father jumps in as he pulls the car out of the parking lot.

"How far apart are they?"

"Maybe 15 minutes," Quinn answers.

"Okay, honey, well I hate to break it to you, but this is very early on, especially since it's your first child. Your doctor is waiting at General, but we can go to a more local hospital if you would feel more comfortable."

"No, we can go to Lima, but what about Britt and Puck? How will they get back?"

"Your mother is going to drive them," Mom says, her voice flat.

I look at Quinn, who raises a sardonic eyebrow.

"Puck and my mom in the same car? Awkwaaaard."

"Does your mom even know that Puck is the real father?" I ask without thinking.

Quinn's mouth makes a little "o" as she realizes that, most likely, Judy has no idea. They kicked her out when Finn still thought he was the father.

Quinn starts to laugh hysterically and I study her nervously.

"What's so funny?"

"Excuse my language, but this pregnancy has been _so_ incredibly fucked up."

My parents burst out laughing along with her and I can't help but join in.

_I hope you're ready for the craziness that awaits you outside that warm home of yours, DJ._

* * *

I feel helpless, watching the contractions come and go. It's been about three hours, and Quinn has steadily progressed to the point that her contractions are really painful. Dad keeps saying how much quicker she is moving along than a normal first pregnancy, and how it'll be over sooner rather than later. I can't even imagine how I would deal with this if I had to watch it for hours longer than I already have.

Quinn has been a trooper though, taking wave after wave with gritted teeth and then immediately pasting on a smile to throw in my direction when they pass. I'm pretty sure she's only smiling to reassure me, because her eyes stay uncomfortably scrunched despite her tight grin. Without any other recourse, I just smile back and continue to hold her hand.

I would very much like to kiss her, but her stupid ass mother is flitting around making a constant fuss over Q as if that will help the pain at all. The room is overcrowded with Britt and Puck, my parents, Judgmental Judy, me, and Quinn. Dad leaves after a bit, since he's actually on shift tonight, only coming in to check on us when he has a free moment.

"Mom?" Quinn says, looking at my mother as another contraction ends.

"Yes, honey?"

Both of our mothers answer her and a long uncomfortable silence follows.

"Oh. Uhh…I meant Mrs. L," Q says quietly, her eyes on her lap.

Judy doesn't say anything, just looks awkwardly at Quinn and then my mom before she nods and steps away from the bed.

"What is it, mija?" Mom asks as she steps to the spot Judy just vacated.

"How many people can be here for the delivery?" It's barely a whisper.

"Usually two or three, but I'm sure we can work something out if you'd like more," my mother says, searching Quinn's eyes for what she wants.

"No, uh, could it just be you and Santana and Puck? I'm feeling a little overwhelmed as it is, I don't think it'll be any better when it's actually time."

Mom is leaning in to be able to hear the soft murmur coming from my girlfriend. Quinn looks so apologetic and conflicted that I want to punch Judy in the face. Of course she would show up on this day, of all the days she could have made a sudden return to her daughter's life.

"Of course, honey. Whatever you want."

Quinn sucks in a sharp breath and snaps her eyes shut as another contraction hits her. My hand is captured in her vice grip and I squeeze back, standing to speak in her ear encouragingly.

"Okay baby, keep breathing, you got this...You're doing great Quinn, don't forget to breathe...Atta girl, almost there...Hang in there, it's almost over."

She leans back into the hospital bed as the contraction passes and gives me another grimace/smile.

"That really sucked," she whispers to me with a little laugh.

I smile and laugh with her.

"I bet."

I glance up and see Judy studying us, a question mark on her face. She's putting this together, or at least trying to. I sigh and look away. I don't know what to do about it, since I'm unwilling to leave Quinn's side at this point just for appearances.

I look at Quinn and realize she has followed my gaze to her mother. She looks back at me and takes in my uncertainty. Her expression changes into one of resolve.

"Can I have a moment alone with Santana and my mother, please?"

Puck, Brittany, and my mother quickly agree and move out of the room. Judy moves closer to the bed. My gut clenches violently. I'm uncertain of Quinn's intentions, but I'm pretty sure I know where this is going.

Quinn takes a deep breath and looks up at her mother.

"Santana has been by my side through this entire thing, _Mom_. If you want to be a part of my life then you might as well know that Santana is my girlfriend. We've been dating pretty much since you kicked me out. I am absolutely in love with her, and we're going to raise this baby together. So as long as you're okay with that, we _might_ be able to make this work after today."

Judy looks shocked, almost afraid, as my and Quinn's eyes study her. For the briefest of moments, I feel _bad_ for her. She came to make amends and now she's finding that she's been replaced, and that her daughter is dating a _girl_. My stomach flips in the tense moment that follows, not wanting to see Quinn experience yet another rejection from a parent.

"Quinnie…"

Judy looks at me for a second and then back to her daughter, almost an exact mirror of Quinn's resolve setting into her features.

"As long as you're happy, I'm glad you've found someone."

Her words run over and through me. Disbelief courses in my veins.

No way had that just gone over so easily. No way was she accepting this.

Quinn looks as incredulous as I do, but tries to smile when another contraction comes and she grips my hand tightly.

"Breathe Q, keep breathing."

I glance up at Judy, who is watching us with rapt attention, and decide I don't need to keep my voice low or watch my word choice for her anymore.

"Good job, baby. Almost there now. Breathe."

Quinn pants from the strain of the contraction, leaning forward. I rub her back with my free hand and keep up my mantra of encouragement until it finally passes.

Once again, Q takes a deep breath and addresses her mother.

"Okay then! Can you go let the others back in?"

Judy smiles and nods, then steps off to do her daughter's bidding.

Tired hazel eyes find mine and I tilt my head to the side, an apology on my face. I'd do anything to stop the pain. I know she knows that when she purses her lips at me in a silent request. I give her a little smile and lean over to kiss her lips lightly before kissing her forehead as well.

"I love you," I murmur in her ear, "You're _my_ hero."

Quinn laughs her breathy laugh and rolls her eyes at me.

"I love you, too."

We rest our foreheads together, oblivious to everyone around us until the doctor comes in to check her progress.

I'm completely floored when she announces that it's almost time to start pushing.

Puck and my mom are pulled out to wash up and get their scrubs on. I don't know if Mom spoke to her about it, but Judy thankfully takes the hint and kisses Quinn before leaving, promising to be right outside. She pauses before she leaves and then grabs me in a quick hug, giving me a short nod before heading out.

Brittany comes over and holds Quinn's other hand while another she suffers through another contraction, then leans in to give my tired girlfriend a hug after it has passed.

"She's going to be amazing. I can't wait to meet her," Britt tells us both with a smile, and then to Quinn, "Love you, Q! Be as tough as woodpecker lips!"

Quinn and I shake our heads as Britt practically dances out of the room. I hand Q off to Puck and Mom to hurriedly get into my scrubs as well. This all feels surreal, but I'm so ready to meet this kid.

When I walk back in, Puck immediately surrenders his spot.

"Listen Puckerman, I'm not trying to be a jerk here, but if you move past where I'm standing, I will literally beat you to death. Don't be trying to sneak a peek at the miracle of childbirth. You follow me? Besides, I'm pretty sure the last thing you want is for Quinn to catch sight of you during this."

My voice is light with humor, but my eyes are deadly serious. Puck's eyes widen and he nods emphatically. Quinn actually laughs, and I fight the smile that causes my lips to twitch upwards.

"Seriously Santana, I'd like to eventually look at lady parts and not see a horror movie. I'll be standing as far from that as I can possibly get."

I actually _do_ laugh at that, along with everyone else. It's a nice moment of levity as the doctors start wheeling all sorts of stuff in the room and adjusting Quinn's bed, her legs getting propped up in stirrups.

I focus on the beautiful face in front of me as she rides out another contraction.

"Ugh, it hurts so BAD!"

"I know, baby. We're almost there. She'll be here soon," I tell her, my heart filling with concern. I don't want her to hurt.

"Okay, Quinn, we're going to need you to start pushing on the next contraction. Are you ready?" the doctor asks, looking up from between my girlfriend's legs.

Quinn nods and then looks into my eyes, her fear suddenly palpable. She leans up and kisses me solidly, taking me completely off guard, and then her face changes back into the resolute, determined look she wears so well.

* * *

**QUINN**

_This is the worst fucking thing ever._

_Oh my God. _

_Shit, shit, shit._

_I'M GOING TO FUCKING __**KILL**__ NOAH PUCKERMAN._

_OW OW OW OW!_

_Breathe, breathe, breathe. _

_Look at Santana, look at Santana._

"You're doing great baby, you can do this!"

_Oh GOD._

_SHIT, OW, FUCK THIS __**HURTS**__._

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!"

_**THIS IS THE WORST FUCKING THING EVER.**_

_Oh my __**GOD**__. _

_Shit, shit, SHIT._

_FUCKING NOAH PUCKERMAN._

_OW OW OW OWWWWWW._

_Breathe, I've got to breathe, oh my God they want me to push again. _

_No. No way._

_SHIT, OW, __**FUCK THIS HURTS**__._

* * *

**SANTANA**

With one last mighty push, Quinn lets out a harsh grunt that seems to magically turn into an infant's cry.

I feel like jello, my entire body weakening at the very sound of that little girl crying.

_She's here. It's over._

I look at Quinn. She's clearly exhausted, and yet her eyes seek out the source of those cries. My own eyes follow her gaze as the doc holds up a messy, squirming little baby.

"Congratulations, momma! You've got a healthy little girl!"

My lip quivers and I feel the tears start to fall down my face as a nurse takes the baby and starts cleaning her off. I lean in to give Quinn a shaky kiss, her whole body trembling after the tremendous effort she just put forth to bring DJ into the world. Puck leans down to kiss the top of Quinn's head and my cheek, wrapping an arm around my neck and leaning his forehead on my shoulder. I can feel him shake with small sobs. My mother grins ear to ear, her hand rubbing Q's arm gently.

I suck in a short breath when they put this beautiful, pink, crying baby girl in Quinn's arms.

_She's perfect._

* * *

**QUINN**

I'm finally holding my daughter. After all of the drama and the craziness, the nearly 9 months of carrying her, of being afraid of her, she's here. And oh myGod, she's _amazing_.

I can't stop kissing her tiny little head every few minutes. She's just so precious and…tiny. I actually can't believe how tiny she is, considering how freaking much it hurt to get her out of there.

Santana is sitting next to me, watching us both, a continuous stream of tears falling down her face. I peel my eyes away from our little girl to look at San and give her an ecstatic smile. She immediately leans in to kiss me and then kiss DJ's forehead.

Puck is standing right behind Santana, no fewer tears on his cheeks than on hers. The two of them are almost as cute as the little peanut in my arms.

"We still need to name her," I say to San and Puck, smiling when they give each other a look of mock terror.

* * *

**SANTANA**

Quinn is finally resting, sleeping hard after the exhaustion of the day. I'm sitting with our pretty little girl in my arms, studying her.

So far, she's totally Quinn. It's incredible. She has these light tufts of hair, and her skin is the same alabaster as her beautiful mother's. I run the back of my finger along her soft, chubby little cheek.

It's hard to believe she's finally here after all this time. I snuggle her a little closer and place a gentle kiss on the top of her head, and then carefully hand her off to her dad.

Puck holds her like he's cradling the most important football he's ever held. His big, sure hands support her tiny body against his chest, and his head is dipped to look at her face.

I've already heard from the Glee kids, but I can't bring myself to even feel the sting of failure with the happiness of today surrounding me. For their part, they've all been extremely supportive, promising to come by tomorrow during visiting hours and sending super pumped texts in response to the one I sent out announcing a healthy baby girl with the cutest picture imaginable.

Quinn stirs and lifts her head suddenly to look at me and Puck.

"You want her back?" Puck offers immediately in a loud whisper.

"No, you can hold her a little bit longer. I just needed to see her, I think."

I smile and walk to my girlfriend's side. She scoots over on her bed and pats the empty space, and I immediately climb onto the bed next to her. Quinn snuggles her head on my chest as I wrap my arm around her and pull her close.

"How are you feeling, pretty lady?"

"So tired. So happy. She's beautiful."

"Well yeah, she looks just like you. You did good, babe. She's amazing."

Quinn tilts her head back and kisses my chin.

"Thanks, love. Couldn't have done it without you."

* * *

**QUINN**

My pretty baby girl stayed with us all night, rotating between my arms, Puck's, and Santana's. I think Papa Lopez even snuck in at one point to hold her. Having my baby where he works has definitely had its perks. Visiting hours and rules haven't really applied to me, so I'm surrounded by my favorite people whenever I want.

Hence why Brittany is here, holding my little bundle of joy in her arms. My whole body bursts with happiness looking at them. Brittany is softly cooing to her and smiling at the grunts and little whines she gets in response every now and then.

Not for the first time, Britt has come through in a pinch, arriving shortly after I called her to relieve San and Puck of Quinn-watching and baby-holding duties. They've been almost annoyingly vigilant in their caretaking, always hovering nearby in case I need something. It's adorable, but seeing them both dead on their feet told me I needed to intervene before they fell asleep standing up. B stepped up like a champ, arriving with a flourish and a gigantic "I'm an AUNT" button her jacket. She's seriously the best.

Santana has finally fallen asleep in a chair, her forehead resting on the side of my bed. I frown when I notice that she's still wearing her uncomfortable regionals costume. Puck is still in his, too. He's sleeping in an awkward position across a reclining chair. The two of them are completely dead to the world.

Mom and Dad Lopez walk in quietly, giving me a smile and shaking their heads at Santana and Puck. Mom lays a pair of Cheerios sweats on the end of the bed for her daughter and then moves over to look at her granddaughter in Brittany's arms. Which actually reminds me…

"Mom and Dad? I have to talk to you about something."

"What's up, honey?" Papa L responds, watching his wife take the baby gently into her arms from Britt.

"Well, umm, I have to put her name on the birth certificate and I…well, I want her to have your last name. My father doesn't deserve to have his name on that paper, and I talked to Puck about it already. Since you guys are technically going to be her parents, and since I'm hoping I'll be raising her with your daughter anyway, I think her last name should be Lopez."

I watch them absorb this, their faces turning from surprise to teary gratefulness.

"We'd be so honored, but…are- are you sure, Quinn? Have you spoken to your mother about this?"

"I just spoke to my _mom_ and my _dad_ about it. My mother doesn't get a say. I'm glad she's back and I'm willing to work on that relationship, but I'm not trading in my real family for anything."

They nod with teary eyes and come to hug me, Mom cradling the baby between us as she does so.

"Thank you, honey. We really love you so much, Quinn. We can't wait to help bring this little one up. She's so very beautiful," Mom whispers in my ear.

I grin at them both.

She really is absolutely _perfect._

* * *

A few hours later, in a brief quiet moment between visitors, I am holding a simple piece of paper with an embossed seal. This silly little paper represents the birth of my daughter. It seems so insignificant for the magnitude of the moment, and yet it holds all of the key information that will carry her forward.

"Whatcha got there, baby?"

I look up at the love of my life, holding the other love of my life, and just have to smile. San is rocking our little girl while she walks around the room, her eyes never leaving her daughter's. The two of them are easily the most beautiful girls in the world.

"Well, I wanted to write you a really long, beautiful love letter to thank you for being such an amazing girlfriend and for standing by me through everything, but I couldn't find a pen, sooo…"

San gives me a funny look and I just shrug, feigning nonchalance.

"Instead, I figured I'd just give you this."

Santana face turns curious as she crosses the room to sit on the edge of my bed. I hold my breath, anxious and excited for her to see the last name I've chosen for our little one. She slept through the entire conversation with her parents, and I swore them to secrecy so I could have this exact moment with this incredible girl who I love with all of my heart, who loved me when I didn't deserve anything from her at all.

I hold the paper in front of Santana's beautiful face, and watch her eyes immediately tear up as she reads.

_Skylar Emily Beth Lopez  
__May 15, 2010  
Female  
__Lima, Ohio  
__Mother: Lucy Quinn Fabray  
__Father: Noah David Puckerman_


	31. To The Moon

**A/N: My amazing, encouraging, awesome readers- we have reached the end. I hope this story has lived up to your expectations. I have received some questions about sequels and continuations, so here's the deal: I don't think I could write another full story fic like this one with all I have coming up, but I am willing to write future one-shots in this universe if requested. So, if you'd like to read more about these characters, feel free to PM me or follow me on tumblr to send a prompt my way. I will do my best to fill them all, but also be aware that I'm going to do my best to submit some stories for Quinntana Week as well. Please be patient if I take a minute in posting.**

**A/N 2: You guys are awesome. One final THANK YOU for all of the follows and favorites, and of course reviews. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this final chapter.**

* * *

**QUINN**

10 Days Later

Our first family trip, and it's to McKinley of all places. Santana is hovering over Skylar, worrying about every possible thing that could possibly cause harm to our pretty little girl.

"San, she's fine. She's going to _be_ fine. We're only going to the auditorium and only the Glee club is going to be anywhere near her. I told you, she has immunities from me," I repeat with exasperation.

Santana rolls her eyes at me and continues to carefully swaddle Skylar up like a little burrito. I look at Momma Lopez and gesture with my hand toward her daughter in frustration.

"Mija, Quinn's right. Baby girl will be just fine. You are going to be late if you don't get out the door soon," Mom interjects with a smile.

Puck walks in from triple checking that the car seat base is secured properly.

"Is she ready to go?" he asks, looking at each of us.

"No, Santana thinks a meteorite is going to fall out of the sky and kill us all, so she's wrapping Sky up _extra_ tight," I intone sarcastically.

My girlfriend straightens up and glares at me, ready to respond before Puck jumps in.

"Ease up on her, Quinn. She's just being careful, there's nothing wrong with that."

He frowns at me as he walks to Santana's side, carefully inspecting his daughter as San finally puts her in her seat. He carefully clips her in, tugging gently to make sure she's safely held in. As annoyed as I am, I can't help but smile at their tag team effort to protect Skylar from just about any threat known to man.

Puck finally picks up her car seat and looks at Santana, who gives him a little nod.

"Okay, we can go now," she says to me, a slight snark in her tone.

I tilt my head at her, shaking it back and forth before stepping forward to give her a light kiss on the cheek.

"Calm down, momma bear, she's fine."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

We head out to the car and get all strapped in before Santana grabs Puck's arm.

"Did anyone grab the hand sanitizer?" she asks, her eyes wide.

I sigh, knowing this will halt all forward progress.

"Yeah, I did," Puck replies calmly, "it's in the diaper bag."

"Good man," Santana says with a smile before dropping back into her seat next to Sky. "Let's do this."

* * *

Santana breaks off from us as we're heading to the auditorium, telling us to wait outside the doors and not go in until she comes back. I give her an inquisitive look, but she just smiles and continues on.

She's back hardly five minutes later, looking rather pleased with herself.

"Where did you go?"

"I had a little chat with Sue," she says, looking smug.

"And?"

"And I asked her to come to the auditorium to meet Skylar."

I'm sort of confused and give her a look that says as much. Santana smiles broadly as she answers.

"I knew she'd want to see the baby, and she will, but she's going to have to sit through the big Glee goodbye song. Here's my theory: I don't think she really wants to see Glee club go away. I think she just needs a push in the right direction. If I'm wrong, no harm, no foul. But if I'm right, she might be able to stop this crap about cancelling the club."

My jaw drops open as Puck lets out a low whistle and shift the car seat into his other hand.

"Genius move, Lopez. You've already started down a little path I like to call "using your beautiful, perfect, awesome daughter to get chicks to do what you want them to do." I thought you'd use it on hotter bait than Sylvester, but to each their own."

Puck's eyes are alight with teasing mischief and he smiles as San gives him a light punch in the shoulder.

"Don't you dare ever use her to pick up chicks, Puckerman."

I nod my agreement with Santana's demand.

"Oh please. I'm pretty sure that if anything little Skylar already has me doing whatever _she _wants. Just look at her, I'm dying here!"

He turns the car seat to display our sleeping girl to us and Santana and I both automatically smile. She's a ridiculously pretty baby.

"Touché, I think she's got us _all_ wrapped around her tiny little finger. But let's get inside before we miss the song," I suggest, pulling the door open.

We are immediately surrounded by Glee clubbers trying to get a look at her. Santana goes straight into bodyguard mode, pushing everyone back and whipping out a thing of hand sanitizer.

"Okay guys, listen up. One at a time. Hands must be clean. Don't breathe in her face. If you have _any_ signs of illness, sorry, you'll have to wait for another time."

The Glee kids all back away and nod, waiting impatiently for me to take Sky out of her seat. When I have her in my arms, I walk slowly over and pull her bunched up onesie down so that they can see her face better.

There's a chorus of oohs and ahhs from the group before Finn speaks up.

"Do you mind if I hold her?"

I feel a flash of guilt that he has to stand by and watch as the baby he thought was his is fawned over and loved by a completely different set of parents. I nod and bring her to him, smiling as he bends his knees awkwardly to take her from me.

"Hi, Skylar," he coos gently, "I sang to you when you were still in your mom's belly. You are much prettier than that picture let on."

He's smiling down at our daughter, totally caught up in her pretty face. I sneak a glance at Santana and Puck and they are both watching him with little half smiles. It feels like a moment of forgiveness and an unexpected feeling of relief washes through me.

Santana carefully takes Skylar back and rocks her gently when she starts fussing, and I turn to the group.

"You guys can hold her after we sing to Mr. Schue, I promise. Rachel, do you want to go get him now?"

Everyone nods and Rachel sets off on her mission. I go back to Santana and Sky, who is once again sound asleep.

"Magic touch, momma bear," I whisper to San, earning a little smile.

"She's just a little snoozer," Santana answers with a humble shrug.

I place a gentle kiss on my daughter's forehead and automatically give Santana a light kiss as well. I freeze as soon as I start to pull back, suddenly realizing what I've just done. My stomach turns instantly, and I stare into Santana's eyes as they dart back and forth between each of mine.

"Quinn. Quinn, baby. It's okay. Don't freak out," Santana's whisper is urgent.

"How many of them saw?" I ask, my jaw clenched.

My girlfriend sighs lightly.

"Enough."

I feel that familiar panic, but swallow it down for the moment.

"Are they staring at us?"

Santana peeks around me for a second.

"Yes, but listen to me, it's okay. I promise you, it's not a big deal. They don't care. They'll help protect us, okay? Can you trust me, please?"

"You're not mad at me?"

Santana half smiles and shakes her head.

"I will never be mad at you for giving me a kiss, Lucy Q. I love you, we're raising a kid, and we needed to come clean eventually. So let's do this, together."

My girlfriend shifts our tiny baby girl in her arms and reaches out her hand to take mine and lead me toward the group.

"Okay, guys, go ahead and ask. We can see the questions on your faces," Santana declares confidently.

Finn steps forward a little bit, looking at the faces around him.

"Are you guys, like, together, or something?"

I watch Santana as she answers.

"Yes. For a while now actually. Right after you and Quinn broke up, to be exact."

Her hand is somewhat tense in mine, as if this is the moment where we'll know. Finn has more reason than anyone to throw a fit. I'm barely breathing as I watch him take this in.

"That is just….wow…"

My nerves are on fire. Puck has moved to our side, feet set in a stance as if he's ready to fight to defend us.

"You knew about this?" Finn asks him, his face knitted in confusion.

"Yeah, I've known for a few months. They're in love dude. I can't be the only one who saw it," Puck replies looking at everyone expectantly.

There's a pause before Kurt speaks up.

"You weren't. Most of us knew, actually. Or at least, most of us suspected."

"How did I miss this?!" Finn is totally exasperated.

"I don't know, bro. They're constantly giving each other lovey dovey looks. It's kind of sickening, to be honest," Puck says, giving us a smile.

Santana rolls her eyes and smiles back at him, giving my hand a little squeeze.

"Well, I, for one, think it's pretty fantastic," Brittany says, walking forward to give me a hug and take Skylar out of San's arms, "and I've known longer than any of you. Everything between these two just adds up. They love each other and they love this little nugget I'm holding. This is probably the healthiest, most normal family any of us have ever seen."

A lot of the glee kids are smiling and nodding, and my eyes tear up at Britt's words. She's right. There is so much more love and stability around Skylar than I ever had growing up, and I know at least Puck is in the same boat. I hold my hand out to him and he links himself with Santana and me

Finn is kind of absently nodding, too.

"Yeah, Brittany's right. I mean, I'm shocked, but…I'm really happy for you guys. Even if there is no Glee club anymore, Skylar will always have 9 aunts and uncles. She's been a part of this journey too."

Santana lets go of my hand and moves forward to quickly wrap Finn in a bear hug. It's so unexpected that he just stands frozen for a second before he returns her hug and pats her lightly on the back.

"Hey guys, what's going on?"

Mr. Schue's arrival ends the moment and Britt holds Sky up slightly to show her off to our soon-to-be former director.

"Oh my…wow. Can I hold her?"

"Of course!" I answer, watching Brittany pass my somehow still-sleeping daughter on.

Mr. Schue sits down with Skylar and we all move to our stools.

"So we have something we need to say to you," Rachel tells him.

As each of us goes around to talk about the people we were before Glee, I glance at my girlfriend and see the look of utter sadness on her face. She's always taking way too much responsibility for things that go on around her. I feel a tightness in my chest at her expression and I reach out to hold her hand.

I was so many things before this year. Captain of the Cheerios, Celibacy Club president, Russell Fabray's daughter, "straight." Now I'm a mother, a partner, a singer, a forgiver, and in many ways, a Lopez.

I squeeze Santana's hand gently. I'm so proud of us.

* * *

**SANTANA**

Quinn gives me a look that says so many things, and I know exactly what she's thinking.

_So much has changed._

I'm holding her hand, in public, unafraid. Before this year I was terrified of anyone finding out about me. Terrified of being different. I hated everyone in this club because they were okay with themselves in a way I didn't think I would ever be. I was Quinn's beta, and I resented her so much for it, mostly because her rejection cut through me so painfully. Only Brittany had saved me from my despair.

I hold my other hand out to my insightful, selfless best friend. She did so much to bring me to this point, to bring Quinn and me together, to support us through everything. Britt takes my hand in hers with a smile.

I sit here now, in love and happy. I have a daughter, I have a new family in this club. I've become a leader, a more selfless person. I've learned to sacrifice for the good of others, to stand up proudly for what I believe in.

All of these emotions rise to the surface as we sing to Mr. Schuester and the tears won't stop once they start. He brought us all together. All I can do is sing my heart out and keep hoping for Sue to show up.

* * *

Quinn and Puck are having an apparently serious apology-fest with Finn, so it has fallen to me to get Sky ready to go. Just as I buckle the baby into her seat, I hear the familiar and irritating voice of one Sue Sylvester.

"Good looking kid, Lopez. Doesn't look much like you though."

I turn around with a smile.

"Yeah, it's a tough break, but I think she's pretty beautiful anyway."

Coach and I regard each other silently for a moment. I can see that oddly proud expression playing at her features.

"You know, Santana, you've come a long way from hiding out with Brittany in the Cheerios locker room. I've been rooting for you to get past your fear, but I never imagined just how far you'd come."

My mouth drops open. How the hell?

"I'm so proud of you. And, begrudgingly, of Q as well. I think you both are very brave to take this on at such a young age. So, next season when you're both back on the Cheerios, I'll do whatever I can to help accommodate your caretaking schedules. We'll sit down and talk. I'm sure Schuester will do the same with Glee club."

I shake my head as I try to process all of that.

"Thank you, Coach. That will be a tremendous help- wait, what did you say? Mr. Schuester will do the same? But there is no Glee anymore, remember?"

My tone is flat and sarcastic. I still can't believe the lengths she has gone to in order to destroy an after school club.

"Well, it turns out I didn't shrink my heart as many sizes as I'd hoped this past year. I saw your little performance a little while ago. Nicely done on the sneaky plan, by the way. You're more manipulative than I give you credit for. In any case, I've petitioned Figgins to give you guys another year. So there is still Glee, at least for one more year."

I put my hands on top of my head and smile excitedly. _It worked!_

"Oh my God! Thank you, thank you so much Coach!"

Before I give it any thought I've got my arms around Sue Sylvester and she's awkwardly hugging me back.

"I'll tell William later, but this stays between you and me until then. I want to torture him for a little bit longer."

I agree, only because we've got another year and I don't want to screw it up by taking away Coach's fun.

"You get that little one home. Congratulations again, Santana."

A slow, broad smile spreads across my face as I watch her leave. I'm kind of dumbstruck.

"Hey babe, what did Sue want?" Quinn asks as she walks up next to me.

"Nothing. Just came to compliment Skylar on being the most beautiful baby on earth," I respond with light smile.

* * *

**QUINN**

July 10th, 2010

I have that odd dream sense that something has changed, that something is missing. I slowly wake up and reach out for my girlfriend, but find empty space. This wakes me up fully and I look around in confusion before I spot her standing at the window, Skylar in her arms.

"Good morning, babe. Happy Birthday!" I tell her with a smile.

Santana turns, her eyes bright with happiness.

"Good morning, pretty lady, and thank you. It's already the best birthday ever," she says, glancing down at Sky as she walks over and sits on the bed next to me.

"When did she wake up?" I'm surprised I didn't hear her first.

"Not too long ago. I changed her diaper and tried to sing her back to sleep but she just kept looking at me, so we've been hanging out," San tells me without looking away from the baby.

"Well lay her down here and let's see if she won't sleep for a little while longer. She's not supposed to eat for a while yet."

My girlfriend smiles and places Skylar on the bed between us, stretching out to lay down next to her. I lean over my daughter to give Santana a gentle, lingering kiss. When I was pregnant I drew this exact scene so many times.

"You know, Q. Today is the one year anniversary of our first kiss…" San gives me a smug little look, "who would've thought we'd be here now."

I shake my head at her, because this is pretty crazy. In the course of the year I'd fallen in love with this girl, run away and broken both of our hearts, gotten pregnant by her boyfriend, and come back to her. Being with her, lying next to our daughter, feels like a miracle.

"God, I never could have imagined. I couldn't be happier, though. I really mean that, Santana. You make this all feel _right_. I didn't really know if we could do it, but…we are."

I get a full grin from my beautiful other half and she reaches out her hand to gently cup my face and then lace her fingers with mine.

"I love you, Quinn. I love you, and I love Skylar, and somehow I even love Puck. And with my parents and with your mom…we're not just doing this, babe, we're doing a damn good job."

We both look down at Sky, her little fists and feet pumping in the air. She's the most beautiful little human I've ever seen. It's hard to really define what this love is like, and the most amazing part is that I can see that same indescribable love reflecting in Santana's eyes as well. Skylar is _ours_, and if I know anything, it is that she will always come first for us.

* * *

**SANTANA**

I'm ushering some of our guests out with a smile and many thank yous. Before I head back in I take another long look at the car in the driveway. I'm officially sixteen, and it feels good to have the keys to my very own new car. Well, new for me. It's not brand new but it's better than the old piece of crap my parents got me when I first was learning to drive.

I close the front door and turn back into the house, pausing at a picture hanging on the wall. It's the one I gave Quinn last December, on display for anyone who comes in our house to see. It's beautiful, because we are so beautiful together. Hanging next to it is our family photo from Christmas, and then one of Skylar sleeping. It's all so…normal.

I've got a grin on my face as I walk back into the kitchen and join my people. Mom and Dad, Judy, Puck, Britt, Quinn, and of course, Skylar. My core people, all gathered here together.

"There's the birthday girl!" my dad announces my entrance.

"Here I am," I respond as I pad over to the table and sit down next to Q, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"So how does it feel to be sixteen?" Dad asks.

I immediately roll my eyes.

"Pretty much the same as 15 years and 364 days did, Daddo."

"Yeah well becoming an old fart sneaks up on you, so enjoy not noticing the difference for now."

"Woooowwww Dad, that's encouraging. Did you find that in a greeting card?"

Everyone snorts at my snarky response, and even Dad smiles at me. I turn to Judy, who is holding a suddenly very fussy Skylar.

"Do you mind if I take her? We sort of have an understanding…namely that if she ever cries I come running," I admit with a little laugh as I reach my arms out to take my cranky daughter.

I start walking slowly around the table, bouncing Sky gently. I sing to her softly as we go.

_Fly me to the moon  
__And let me play among the stars  
__Let me see what spring is like  
On Jupiter and Mars_

_In other words, hold my hand  
In other words, baby, kiss me_

_Fill my heart with song  
__And let me sing forever more  
__You are all I long for  
__All I worship and adore_

_In other words, please be true  
__In other words, I love you_

_Fill my heart with song  
__Let me sing forever more  
__You are all I long for  
__All I worship and adore_

_In other words, please be true  
__In other words, I love you  
__In other words, I love you._

I continue our slow dance around the table, suddenly noticing that conversation has stopped and all eyes are on me. Skylar is quiet in my arms, her eyes focused on my face. I give her a smile before looking up to our audience.

"What?"

"Frank Sinatra, really?" Puck answers.

"Blame Quinn, she's the one who listens to that old timey stuff," I shoot back, "besides, Sky likes it, see?"

I sit down at the table, still making eye contact with our inquisitive, but calm, little infant. Her eyes haven't yet changed color, so I stare into beautiful blue newborn eyes. Skylar is already starting to mimic facial expressions and occasionally lets out these happy gurgles that make everyone around her smile. She's such a pretty baby, certainly far cuter than the normal 2 month old.

"Well I'd better take our little Sinatra fan upstairs to get ready for bed," Quinn interjects, coming over to pick Sky up.

"Let me give her a quick goodnight kiss, first."

Puck kisses both of his daughter's cheeks.

"Love you, snugglebutt," he whispers as Quinn turns with a smile to take her upstairs.

"We should probably be going anyway," Britt says, indicating towards Puck. He's her ride home.

I nod and walk them to the door, giving Puck a big hug as he walks out.

"Happy Birthday, momma bear," he teases.

"Yeah yeah, shut it Old Man," I kid in response.

Brittany wraps her arms around me.

"So I think I figured out your equation," she says quietly.

"You did? I thought we kind of got it right awhile ago…"

"Well, you did, but your equation changed. Your answer was Quinn. Everything added up to her once you figured things out. But now your answer is Skylar. You and Quinn, you add up to her. It's the only thing I've seen that is more beautiful than your equation with just Q. I'm really proud of you, Santana. And I love you, so much. Happy Birthday."

Brittany whispers "happy birthday" and squeezes me tight one more time, before dancing off to jump in Puck's truck.

I'm left speechless on the front step, smiling after the glue of the Unholy Trinity and the best aunt for Skylar I could have ever hoped for.

I wave one last time before heading inside and hugging both of parents. I offer a goodnight to Judy as well, and then go upstairs to help Q put Sky to bed.

"Hey," I whisper as I walk in.

Quinn smiles that megawatt smile at me and mouths "hi." I watch her place Sky in her bassinet and then walk over to place a soft kiss on Q's cheek as we watch our little girl sleep.

I suddenly notice that the baby is wearing the onesie I bought at Christmas and have to stifle a laugh.

"Really?" I ask my girlfriend, indicating the silly outfit Skylar is wearing.

"I mean, it's true. She is so freaking cute, but so are her moms," Quinn whispers back to me.

"Fair enough," I admit with a shrug.

Quinn takes my hand and leads me to our bed. Once I'm seated she pulls out a small box and gives it to me. I open it slowly and stare in shock at the small pendant on a silver chain. It's an emerald, Sky's birthstone.

"I wanted to make it clear that you are her mom, just as much as I am. Without you, I wouldn't have been able to keep her. Without you, it wouldn't feel complete even if I did. So this pendant is a reminder that, even when things are rough with us, and I'm sure at times they will be, we will always take care of each other so that we can take care of Skylar. I love you so much, baby."

"I…I love it, Q. And God, I love you so much. This is perfect."

"One more thing. I had this framed for us. I handwrote the quote and everything. I think it captures us...I hope so anyway."

Quinn stands and pulls a large frame from under my bed. I seriously need to start looking under there more if she's going to hide all of my presents in the same spot.

My eyes tear up instantly when I see this beautiful gift. I kiss Quinn, deeply, passionately, with all I have in me.

Framed are three things: First, a photo of Quinn and me with Skylar, shortly after she was born. Second, a quote. And third, Quinn's drawing of us lying with a baby, the one she showed me the day she asked if I was willing to help her raise the little girl in her belly.

I kiss Quinn once more as I read the quote, so perfect for us.

_They belonged to each other; and, no matter what life might hold for them, it could never alter that.  
__Their happiness was in each other's keeping and both were unafraid._


	32. Three Kids and a Three Year Old

**A/N: So I originally started writing this for Quinntana Week, but decided it didn't work well without the 31 chapter lead up to it. So here is a snapshot of life with Skylar at 3 years old. Might not be the last snapshot, depending on interest in more and my work schedule. Also, if you haven't checked out any of my Quinntana Week submissions, please do! Happy hump day, guys!**

* * *

**QUINN**

**September 2013**

"Mommmmmyyyyyy"

Skylar's terrified cry snaps me out of my dream and I jump out of bed, rousing Santana as I dash out of our room and into our daughter's. I sit on her bed and put my arms out.

"What's the matter, baby?"

Sky scrambles into my lap and latches on to me, quivering with fear.

"I…I…I don' wanna go to sc-school 'morrow, Mommy," she tells me shakily, her face buried in my shirt.

Skylar is going to pre-school tomorrow for the first time, an event that she has been extremely excited for up until this point.

"Oh, baby girl…how come?"

I look up when Santana appears in the doorway, looking concerned.

"Cause!"

"Because why, honey?"

"Cause you and Momma and Daddy won' be with me!"

Skylar's cries become more emphatic and she squeezes me tighter.

Santana frowns and sits down next to me, causing Sky to pop her head up and look to see who has joined us.

"Momma," she sobs, reaching her arms out.

San sighs and pulls our 3 year old onto her lap, wrapping her tightly in her arms.

"What's going on, crazy girl? When did you get scared of school?"

Skylar pulls back and looks at us both, tears clinging to her long eyelashes.

"I won' see you and Mommy all day! And Daddy Puck won' get to see me so much. And Grams and Gramps and Gramma Judy. And Aunt B! I love my Aunt B! I won' see anyone anymore. I'll be all alone!"

My heart aches at her tiny, scared voice insisting she'll be alone, and I have to look away when tears fill my eyes.

"Listen to me, Rainy Sky. You will _never_ be alone, okay? Never ever. Daddy is going to pick you up and Gram and Gramps will be here when you get home from school. Mommy and me will be home a little bit after. We can even call Grandma Judy and see if she wants to come over, okay?"

I glance over at Skylar and Santana as I sweep a stray tear from my eye. They are two peas in a pod, and I know that if anyone can have my baby girl feeling brave, it'll be her Momma.

"What 'bout Aunt B?" Sky asks with her brow furrowed.

"You can call Aunt B on Skype tomorrow. Remember how she's in New York at her college? It's too far, so she can't come over," Santana explains gently.

"Oh yeah," our daughter mumbles, saddened that she won't see her Aunt Brittany.

"Hey you. Don't pout. Aren't you the luckiest girl that so many people love you so much? What would Aunt Brittany say if she were here?"

Skylar sniffs and then smiles a little.

"Have no fear, little dear, 'cause love is always near!" she recites in a sing-song voice, just like Brittany always says it.

"Exactly," Santana says, bopping our little girl's nose.

Skylar grins and brings her hands up to rub her eyes.

"Alright, Blue Sky. Think you're ready to go back to sleep so you'll be ready to be fearless tomorrow?" Santana asks.

Our daughter nods and leans her head against her Momma's chest with a yawn.

"Can you sing me To the Moon?"

Santana pretends to deliberate for a moment.

"Only if Mommy sings with me," she finally agrees, smiling over at me.

I give her an exasperated look when Skylar starts begging.

"Pleeeeease Mommy? Please will you?"

Her little face is so hopeful and adorable, there is no chance I could say no.

"Of course, baby girl. But you've got to climb under your blankets and lay down nice, okay?"

"Okay!"

Skylar crawls out of Santana's arms and squeezes between us to get under the covers, her loose blonde curls wild against her pillow.

We each give her a gentle good night kiss before Santana starts singing quietly and I join in a moment later.

_Fly me to the moon  
__And let me play among the stars  
__Let me see what spring is like  
__On Jupiter and Mars_

_In other words, hold my hand  
__In other words, baby, kiss me_

_Fill my heart with song  
__And let me sing forever more  
__You are all I long for  
__All I worship and adore_

_In other words, please be true  
__In other words, I love you_

_Fill my heart with song  
__Let me sing forever more  
__You are all I long for  
__All I worship and adore_

_In other words, please be true  
__In other words, I love you  
__In other words, I love you._

We sing the last notes practically in a whisper and retreat from our already-sleeping daughter's bedroom. Santana holds my hand as we walk back to our own room and climb into bed.

"Quinn…"

I just shake my head and put my hand up, because I know it will pass in a minute, but for now I need to let the tears fall. I can't believe my baby girl is already 3 and going to school.

Santana wraps me in her arms, but doesn't say anything more. Her soft kisses to my face calm me down and I let out a little laugh.

"Sorry, babe. I don't know why that made me so sad. She's just so…"

I can't think of the words for Skylar, there are so many. That little girl is our everything.

"Sweet, and good, and loving, and smart, and…God she's just amazing," my girlfriend chimes in, her voice thick now too.

"Yeah," I say with a teary laugh.

Santana shakes her head.

"How did this happen so fast? It feels like a heartbeat ago that you came here to tell me that Puck got you pregnant and now she's so big and so smart."

"Right? That reminds me, did you call Puck to make sure he'll be there to pick her up?"

"Yeah. He'll be there. I wish we didn't have class tomorrow. I'm really thinking about ditching my afternoon class so I can come home."

I poke my girlfriend gently.

"It's the second week of classes, San. You can't cut already. Noah will be there for Skylar, and your parents will be here when she gets back. She's going to be fine," I tell her firmly.

Santana smiles.

"How did we go from me comforting you to this?"

"I don't know, must be that we're such an amazing team I suppose."

My beautiful girl pulls me closer and gives me a soft, unhurried kiss.

"Yeah, we are. Now let's get some sleep so that we can be brave tomorrow, too."

We share another soft kiss before I roll onto my side and Santana wraps herself around my back. She gathers my hair to the side and places a quick kiss on the back of my neck, just like she does every night.

"Good night, pretty lady," she whispers.

"Good night, love."

* * *

Getting ready in the Lopez house on a typical morning is a pretty laid back affair. It's been almost 4 years since I moved in with Santana and her parents after I was kicked out of my house, and I've never seen even the slightest hint of chaos, until today.

Skylar has changed her outfit 4 times already and still needs to eat breakfast. Santana and I cannot be late dropping her off because we both have class at the Lima campus of Ohio State. Papa Lopez is still on shift at the hospital, but Mom is in the kitchen, trying to get Sky to eat while my girlfriend and I get ready.

"Hey babe, have you seen my comparative politics textbook?" Santana asks me while I put my make-up on.

"I don't even know what that book looks like, so no."

Santana huffs in irritation and then disappears from view for a few moments before reappearing.

"It's pretty thick. It's called "Politics in America," or something like that. I really need it for class today."

I stop what I'm doing and think for a moment.

"Did you check in the Jeep? I think there was a textbook under one of the seats."

"That's my Spanish book. I haven't bothered to bring it inside because I obviously don't really need it," Santana admits with a sigh.

"Then I don't know what to tell you, love. Maybe check under the bed? It's like a vortex of lost crap, maybe one of us kicked your book under there on accident."

San disappears again as I go back to finishing up my make-up.

"Found it!"

Unbelievable.

Skylar comes tearing into the bedroom just as I walk out of our bathroom.

"Mommy, I need to change my clothes," she announces breathlessly.

"No, you don't. Did you eat your breakfast?"

"Not yet 'cause I'm not wearing the right clothes!"

I pick her up and start carrying her back downstairs.

"Skylar, your outfit is impeccable. You have to eat your breakfast so we can get going."

I plop her down on her booster chair and turn to Momma L.

"Sorry, Mom. I don't know what's gotten into her this morning."

Maribel smiles at us both and dismisses me with a hand wave.

"She's just excited, aren't you querida?"

Skylar smiles and nods at her Gram, bouncing in her seat. I give her a stern look.

"You stay here and eat your breakfast like a good girl. I have to finish getting ready."

"Okay, Mommy."

"Thank you, baby."

I plant a kiss on her forehead and hurry out of the kitchen to get my things together. Santana catches me in the bedroom on her way out and gives me a quick kiss in passing before swatting my butt and heading downstairs.

After packing my books up and making sure I've got everything I need, it hits me that Santana and I are about to drop our little girl off at school and will probably cry the entire way to campus. I run into the bathroom and grab a couple of make-up items and a pack of tissues.

Back downstairs I take a bite of toast that San holds out for me and look at Skylar to make sure she hasn't messed up her outfit. She looks simultaneously tiny and too grown up, but she's all cleaned up and ready to go.

"Did you brush your teeth?" I ask as I pick her up from her seat.

"Yes, Mommy."

"I took her to clean up when I got downstairs, I think she's all set to go," Santana adds, finishing her breakfast while standing up.

Momma Lopez comes into the kitchen with a camera and a big grin.

"Is my big girl granddaughter ready for her glamour shots?"

Skylar is a total ham. She loves to be the center of attention, and she _especially_ loves having her picture taken.

"YES!" she shouts enthusiastically, wiggling in my arms to get down.

I set her feet on the floor and watch her run off with her Gram before turning to Santana.

"Are you ready for this?" I ask.

"Not even a little bit. Are you?"

"Nope."

* * *

**SANTANA**

Skylar has grown progressively quieter during our drive to her school, and I'm worried that she's getting nervous again. I look into the rearview mirror and make eye contact with her, then make a funny face. Her giggle in response is music to my ears. Quinn glances back at our smiling girl and gives me an appreciative look.

The girls in my life are like mirror images of each other. Skylar looks like a slightly more ethnic version of her mom, her blonde hair has a soft curl to it that Quinn's has never had and her skin tone is a shade darker like Puck's, but her face is so much like Quinn. Big eyes and full lips, a little dimple in her chin. Incredibly, she avoided having an awful nose that could have easily come from either side of her genetic code. We attribute her slender nose to Judy. Her eyes are all her own, though, a stunning green that falls somewhere between Puck and Quinn. She's really a beautiful child, as evidenced by the parade of people who stop us anytime we're in public to tell us how gorgeous she is.

"Okay, Sunny Sky, let's go over the rules again," I order calmly.

"Momma I knoowwww," Skylar whines back at me.

"I know you knoowwww," I imitate back at her, "but tell me again so that I feel better."

Sky lets out an exaggerated sigh that I know she has copied from me and Quinn, and I just have to smile. Out of the corner of my eye I see Quinn grin as well.

"Be polite. Share toys. Listen to my teachers. Don' leave with anybody I don' know."

"Good girl. Daddy will be here to pick you up, okay?"

"Yes, Momma."

I reach across the console and take Quinn's hand as we pull into the parking lot.

"We can do this," I mouth to her when she looks over at me.

I climb out of the Jeep and help Sky out of her seat, grabbing her little back pack that is empty except for a small snack, but that she insisted on carrying "like a big girl."

Quinn takes our daughter's other hand and we walk with her to her classroom. We've already met her teachers and they recommended letting our little girl cross into the class on her own, so we're saying our goodbyes in the hallway.

My lovely girlfriend kneels down in front of Sky and smiles, trying to keep her nerves hidden.

"Alright baby girl, have a great time, okay? We will see you in just a few hours. I love you so much."

"Okay Mommy, I love you too."

Quinn gives her a gentle kiss on the cheek and then stands up so that I can take my turn saying goodbye. I bend over and hug Sky close, whispering in her ear.

"What was the last rule?"

She whispers conspiratorially back.

"Never hit first, but always hit last."

I smile at her and kiss her forehead.

"Love you, Skylar."

"I love you too, Momma."

I wipe the lipstick off her face and send her into the classroom. She turns and waves at us with a big smile on her face, and we take that as our cue to leave.

Once we're in the Jeep, Quinn wheels on me.

"What did you say in Sky's ear, Santana?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You whispered something and she whispered back. What was it?"

I sigh, because I am not going to lie to her, but I know she'll be annoyed with me.

"It was the last rule," I admit.

"Which was?" Quinn is studying me intently, so I start backing the Jeep up to avoid her eyes.

"Never hit first, but always hit last."

My words hang in the silence that follows.

"You're kidding me, right?"

I say nothing, because nothing is going to help at this point.

"San…she doesn't live in Lima Heights Adjacent! You can't tell her that it's okay to hit people!"

I roll my eyes instinctively, and immediately regret it.

"Nice, Santana. Really nice. That's some A+ parenting right there," Quinn intones sarcastically.

"Damn it Q, I didn't tell her she can just walk around hitting people. I told her to defend herself if needed. We can't tell her to just take her licks and walk away. Kids are _mean_, and Skylar has two moms, Quinn, she needs to know that it's okay to defend herself."

My girlfriend glares at me, but I don't back down.

"SHE'S THREE YEARS OLD, SANTANA. And don't patronize me, I'm well aware of how many moms my daughter has. When we get home tonight you are telling her that the "last rule" doesn't apply," she demands.

"We'll talk about this later. I think you're overreacting."

Quinn shakes her head at me, irritation coming off of her waves.

"This isn't a debate, Santana."

"Fine, then let's put it to a vote."

I know I have her on this. Whenever a parenting disagreement arises we put the argument to a vote between the three of us. I'm guaranteed to win on this one, because there is no way Puck will agree with Quinn. He helped me come up with the rules, after all.

"Maybe we should take it straight to a super vote then, because Puck might side with you, but your parents probably won't."

A super vote involves presenting our opposing cases to my parents and allowing them each a vote. A super vote is usually only invoked as an appeal to the regular vote. We've only actually used it a couple of times for major debates.

I sigh and glance over at Quinn.

"Can we just discuss this at lunch, calmly? If we can't agree then we'll go with the vote, but I'd like for us to try to talk it out first."

I pull into a spot fairly close to both of our buildings and turn to my girlfriend, waiting for her response.

"We can try. That's all I'm promising."

"Fair enough. Am I getting a goodbye kiss or am I too deep in the doghouse?"

Quinn fights the upwards twitch of her lips and shakes her head at me before leaning over to give me a quick kiss.

"You're lucky you're so damn hot, Santana Lopez, because you are truly incorrigible."

"It's a gift," I reply with a grin as I get out of the Jeep.

"Your hotness or your abysmal personality?" Quinn asks teasingly.

I give her one last kiss as I head off towards my building.

"Both!" I call back as I walk away, smiling when I hear Q's distinct laugh behind me.

* * *

Puck sends Quinn and me a text after he picks Skylar up.

**Puckerman: Skynet has become self-aware. World destruction imminent.**

I roll my eyes at the stupid Terminator reference and check out the picture he attached.

In it, Skylar beams as she holds up a picture she apparently drew at school of her family. When I zoom in I can see stick figure versions of her, Quinn, Puck, and myself. Tears immediately spring to my eyes, because she's just so damn _precious_.

Quinn immediately texts me separately.

**Lucy Q: Are you crying?**

**Me: Yup. You?**

**Lucy Q: Yup.**

**Me: Wanna ditch class and go home?**

**Lucy Q: Yup.**

**Me: See you at the Jeep in five.**

I throw my things in my bag and hurry off to meet Quinn and get home to our baby girl.

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana takes my hand as we walk up to the door of the house, shooting me a quick smile before opening the door.

"Hello? Are there any pre-schoolers here?" she calls out as we walk in.

"Mommaaaaaaaa!" we hear from the living room before a 3 foot tall ball of excitement comes running into the hall.

Skylar launches herself into the air and is caught expertly under her arms by Santana and lifted high above our heads. She giggles hysterically as Santana brings her back down and gives her a bunch of kisses on her little cheek before passing her off to me.

I squeeze her gently when she wraps all of her limbs around me like a little monkey, so happy to have her in my arms again.

"Hi baby girl. Did you have a great day?"

"Yes! I drew a picture! It's so good like when you draw, Mom. I think you will really love it," Skylar explains animatedly, wiggling to get down and then taking my hand immediately.

She reaches her other hand out to take Santana's and then pulls us towards the kitchen, straight to the refrigerator.

"Wow, Sky. This is really good!" Santana tells her as she takes the magnet off of the picture and holds it up to examine it.

Four stick figures wear humungous smiles, their hands linked together. Our main distinguishing feature is our hair. Long and black for San, medium length blonde for me, and none for Puck. Thank God he shaved off that stupid mohawk.

"You're a little Picasso," I tell Sky as I lift her into another hug.

My daughter frowns, her little brow furrowed in confusion.

"Who's that?" she asks me.

"He was a famous artist."

Skylar thinks this over and then shakes her head.

"I don' wanna be like Peacasto," she announces adorably, "I wanna be like you, Mommy. You are better than Peacasto."

I laugh and kiss her cheek.

"Thanks, baby girl."

"Welcome," she says politely.

"Let's go hang out with Daddy and Skype call Aunt Brittany. How does that sound?" Santana asks her.

Sky lights up when she hears Britt's name and nods emphatically.

"Yes, please!"

Santana hangs the picture back up and goes to get the iPad while I carry my baby girl to the living room, receiving a kiss on the cheek from Puck by way of greeting.

I let Skylar down and she hops happily into her dad's lap. He kisses the side of her head quickly and wraps his arms around her as she leans back into him.

Not for the first time, I am so thankful that she has Puck to counterbalance Santana and me. Somehow, despite living with us and seeing us constantly, she has a definite daddy's girl streak in her. It is rare that she doesn't get to see Puck on a given day, whether it be for 20 minutes before bed or an entire afternoon. He has been involved in her life from day one, and it shows in their easy rapport with one another.

Santana walks in holding the iPad up.

"Hey B. I've got a little girl here who wants to tell you about her day."

"_Oh my goodness, yes! Pass me on to my favorite niece."_

San hands the iPad to Puck, who holds it up for Skylar.

"_Hi SkyLo!"_

"Hi Aunt B! How is your school?"

"_My school is a lot of fun. I dance all the time. More importantly, how is YOUR school?"_

"It's okay. I made a picture today of me and Mommy and Momma and Daddy. It's really good like Mommy does. I think maybe next time I will draw you, Aunt B."

"_I would love that! Tell Momma to send me a picture of your drawing from today, okay?"_

"Okay."

"_So what else happened at school? Did you like the kids?"_

"Yeah, 'cept one. He is mean, but I didn' hit first."

I look up in alarm, catching Santana's eye and then looking at Puck, with a questioning expression. He shrugs and makes a face that tells me he has no idea.

"_That's good, you should never hit anyone."_

"Never hit first, but always hit last," Skylar replies from memory, looking proudly at Santana.

"_Umm…"_

Santana takes the iPad from Puck.

"Hey Britt, can we call you back maybe? I think we need to have a family chat."

"_I'm headed out in a bit. Let me just say goodnight to Sky and I'll talk to you guys soon."_

"Okay here she is."

The iPad is turned to Skylar, who frowns when she utters "goodnight" in response to her Aunt Brittany.

"_Love you SkyLo!"_

"Love you too, Aunt B."

The call is disconnected and we sit in silence for a moment before I speak up.

"Sky we need to talk about the last rule," I say gently.

Our daughter's head snaps around to look at Santana, who gives her an encouraging smile and nods.

"I didn' break the rule though," Skylar mumbles, clearly confused.

"It's okay honey, you're not in trouble," Puck tells her as he gives her a little squeeze, "we just want to know if the mean boy hit you or if you hit him."

Skylar shakes her head vigorously.

"Then what did he do that was mean?" Puck prods softly.

My little girl twists her fingers together and stares at them, clearly hesitant to say. My heart aches, because I think I know what he did.

Santana kneels down in front of Sky and tilts her little chin up to make eye contact.

"What was it, Skylar? It's okay, you can tell us."

I can see in the tense set of my girlfriend's muscles that she is thinking what I am, and in a glance I see Puck's jaw is locked and know we're all on the same page.

"My picture," our little girl whispers, her eyes filled to the brim with tears she is holding back. "He said it was wrong because there is s'posed to be one mom only, not two moms."

Puck closes his eyes and leans his head back. Santana takes Skylar into her arms and gives her a long hug. I feel like I've been kicked in the stomach.

It's been three years and we've barely heard a whisper of homophobia or judgment for raising a child with two moms and a dad. Even Santana's family members have kept their mouths shut for the most part, and the ones who did judge were simply removed from our lives. Santana and I never really came out, we just lived our lives and let others draw their own conclusions. Somehow we even made it through the rest of high school without being tortured, a blessing we've attributed to the far reaching influence of Sue Sylvester and the collective memory of Santana beating the crap out of her thug of a cousin despite being outnumbered.

But this…to have it fall to Skylar…it's too much.

"I told him though, Momma. I told him that I am lucky 'cause I have so much love."

I want to slap the little bastard when I see Skylar's tears spill over. She hurriedly brushes them away in a gesture so like Santana that I feel tears in my own eyes.

She is _our_ daughter. All three of us. She might look most like me and have Puck's tan skin, but she has so many of San's mannerism it's uncanny.

Santana presses a kiss to Skylar's forehead and rocks her gently.

"You know what, crazy girl? You were totally right. You have so much love and are so lucky, aren't you? It doesn't matter what anyone else says."

"Right!" Skylar answers, nodding her head emphatically.

"Why don't you go find Gram and tell her you'll help with dinner?" Santana suggests, putting our little girl down and setting her on her way.

"Okay, but can we invite Gramma Judy over, Momma?"

Santana nods with an absent smile and Skylar runs off in search of Maribel.

The three of us regard each other quietly for a moment before Noah speaks up.

"We agreed that if this ever became an issue we would talk about you guys moving. So let's talk." His face is pained with the thought of us leaving, but also resigned. I know he'll put Sky first.

Santana shakes her head and comes to sit down next to me.

"I don't think we're at that point, Puck. _We_ are reacting much worse to this than she did. I mean, she probably wouldn't have mentioned it at all if we didn't drag it out of her, and she immediately said exactly what we've always told her, that she just has extra love. I think Sky is more resilient than we're giving her credit for. She needs you, you're her father. Running away would be for us, not for her."

I chew on my lip, because she makes a compelling argument. My first instinct is to pull up stakes and head to a more accepting state, but ignorance breeds everywhere. And Skylar does need Puck in her life, and my mother too. Mom and Dad Lopez have agreed to leave Lima if we needed to, but it's a huge undertaking to take on because one snot nosed little kid made a comment.

"Santana's right. We're overreacting. I mean, did she seem upset when you picked her up?"

"No, she was her usual talkative self. She babbled all the way home about her day and how good her drawing is," Noah admits, a smile on his face at the memory.

"Well then, I think we stay until we finish school, just like we agreed in the beginning. Then the three of us can decide if and where we want to move. Barring something major, I think it's best if we stay here together for now," I offer up.

Noah seems relieved, but also somewhat dubious.

"I just don't want anyone getting inside her head about this. She's always just accepted that this is the way things are, and everyone around her has reinforced that. Maybe we didn't explain things right."

Once again, Santana shakes her head.

"Actually, Skylar is really self-aware. A lot more than I think we realize sometimes. She knows that our family is unconventional, she just doesn't think that it matters."

My girlfriend looks at me carefully before continuing.

"She asked me recently how I'm her mom when she came from Quinn's belly, and I explained it to her the best I could."

I'm shocked, and I can tell that Noah is, too.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask.

Santana shrugs.

"Because it wasn't a big deal. She asked while I was reading her a story and we talked about it. She's so smart…she understands better than we think she does."

"What did you tell her?" Puck interjects and Santana smiles at him.

"I told her that she physically came just from you and Quinn, but that her heart and soul came from all three of us."

We all smile at that, but I can't help but ask.

"And what did she say?"

"She said that it made perfect sense because she looks like her Mommy and Daddy, but acts like her Momma."

I laugh loudly at that, because it is so very true. Skylar even does some things left-handed, even though she's pretty clearly right-hand dominant.

Right on cue, a blonde haired, green eyed ball of energy zooms into the living room, panting from her sprint.

"I foun'…Gramps…he said…Daddy…should start…the grill!"

Puck hops up immediately. He has found a sort of surrogate father figure in Papa Lopez, and I know he'll happily sit by the grill and talk man stuff for hours.

"Thank you, baby. But did we say about running in the house?"

Skylar flops herself over the arm of a chair in frustration, her butt wagging in the air.

"Not supposed to," she replies petulantly.

Santana taps Sky's wagging butt.

"Hey munchkin, why don't we go outside and play while we wait for dinner to be ready?" she asks, knowing her daughter will _never_ refuse a chance to play with her.

"Yeah!"

"Okay, let's go change." Santana takes Sky's hand and starts to walk away, but our little girl breaks loose and runs back to me, wrapping me in a tight squeeze.

"I love you, Mommy." Her tiny voice always reaches a place in my heart that only she can touch.

"I love you most, Skylar."

She gives me a big smile and then takes off, running a few steps before catching herself and walking swiftly toward her room to change into play clothes.

Santana turns back to me and walks over to place a light kiss on my lips, before turning to go change herself.

"Hey San?"

"Yeah babe?" she asks, turning back to look at me.

"I love you most, too."

My heart flutters when she gives me that full smile I adore so much.

"You too, pretty lady."


	33. A Long Time Coming

**A/N: Found some time and wrote this out. I'm hoping to update "I Fell in Love in the Back of a Cop Car" next, and then probably "And One More Makes Fifty." Life is getting really busy because I'm getting ready to move, so if there's a gap in updates that is why. Please be patient. I promise to bring each fic that I have unfinished to a close. I hope you all are doing fantastic. Much love for all of your follows, favorites, and especially the reviews. They truly mean a lot. Thank you so much.**

* * *

Summer 2019

**SKYLAR**

My moms are getting married today! Momma says that this has been a loooooong time coming, but that things got a little backwards because they fell in love when they were super young and Mommy was already pregnant with me.

_I'm_ super excited because the wedding is going to bring everyone together. I haven't seen a whole lot of my grandparents or aunts and uncles in a while because everyone is always busy doing stuff and some of them live pretty far away. We moved to New York when I was six, so I'm closer to a lot of them, but according to both of my moms _everyone_ is going to be here to celebrate with us. Honestly, I can't decide who I'm most excited to see.

Gram and Gramps and Gramma Judy will all be here from Ohio, which is really exciting. Now that I don't live so close they always bring presents whenever I see them, even if there is no reason. Plus, Gramps always tells me about crazy stuff that happened at the hospital. I love that. I think I want to be a doctor someday. If not that, then a soccer player. I'm really good. Anyway, my grandparents aren't like my friends' grandparents, all old and boring. Mine are funny and young and like to play with me. I'm super lucky for that.

I've already gotten to see Aunt Brittany because she's in the wedding, which has been really awesome. She's been on a tour with someone famous for a couple of months, but I still usually see her more than everybody else because she always tries to Skype me every Tuesday and Thursday before bed. I would say Aunt B is probably my best friend. Like, I have other friends who are my age and all, but Aunt Brittany has always been there for me, especially when my moms broke up for a little while when we first came to the city. They tried really hard not to let me see that things were bad, but I'm not dumb. I stayed with Dad most of the time then, and I only saw Momma and Mommy separately. It really sucked (I'm not allowed to say that word, but it's true, it totally sucked). Aunt Brittany took me out all the time and actually answered my questions, unlike everyone else who pretended nothing was wrong.

* * *

April 2017

"Aunt Brittany, why don't Momma and Mommy love each other anymore?"

Aunt B stops walking and takes my hand to stop me, too.

"Whoa, what makes you think they don't love each other?"

I feel sad. Really sad. I don't want to look at her face so I look everywhere else. My throat hurts when I try to talk.

"Well, 'cause Momma isn't sleeping at our apartment anymore. I can tell because when I go home from Dad's with Mommy, I can't smell her perfume and I think she took one of my pillows to wherever she is sleeping now. And…I…Aunt B I think I made them split apart and send me to Dad because I told them I could hear them fighting and that they shouldn't say such mean things."

I can see Aunt Britt looks surprised from the corner of my eye, like I'm not supposed to know anything. My chest hurts because I want to cry but I won't let it out. Aunt B kneels down in front of me and makes me look at her, but it's hard because I see the sad in her blue eyes too.

"Listen to me, Skylar. Nothing is your fault. Your moms thought it would be best for you to stay with your dad because they need to work on some stuff. And they're working on that stuff because they _do_ love each other, very much. Do you understand?"

All I can do is shrug.

"I guess so."

It doesn't make sense. If Mommy and Momma still love each other then we'd all be living together like before. I really love Daddy, but it's not the same when I don't have both of my moms. Aunt B knows I don't really get it. She is giving me a look that says she knows.

"Let me try to explain it a different way. It's kind of like…learning new math. I know you're like, the smartest almost 7 year old on earth, but sometimes learning new stuff can be confusing, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, your moms know a lot of math and they are really good at it, but now they're in a new place and the math is a little bit different. They are trying to learn how things add up again. So while they try to figure out that stuff, they thought you'd have more fun and be happier if you stayed with your dad and got to play instead of doing math all day. Does that make more sense?"

It does make sense that I would have more fun playing than doing math.

"So are they fighting about the answer? Maybe we can help them get it right if that's what it is."

"It's not really the answer they are fighting over, sweetheart. It's more like…the right way to get to the answer that has them confused right now. It's one of those complicated problems that has more than one way to the right answer."

"But…once they figure out their math problem we'll all be together again?"

I am holding my breath, because I want her to say yes so badly. Seeing Mommy and Momma without each other is weird. They both seem so sad, even though they pretend they're not for me.

"Your moms belong together, and they both know that, Sky. I don't know how long it will take for them to solve the problem, but I know that when they do everything will fall back into place. But until then, if you feel upset, or hurt, or angry, you come talk to me, okay? I'll always be here to listen, or explain things, or just play. And I know you know this, but all of your parents love you very much, munchkin. No matter what happens, they will always love you the most."

* * *

Going through that stuff was when I decided Aunt Brittany would always be my best friend. She always just seems to get me, even when we haven't gotten to see each other in a while. Plus, she teaches me all of her sweet dance moves from the music videos she's been in. Aunt B is a crazy good dancer.

Anyway, there are a bunch of other people I'll get to hang out with today too, like Aunt Rachel and Uncle Finn. I usually see Aunt Rachel and Uncle Finn pretty often, but I guess some TV people want Aunt Rachel to be in a show about a chorus or something so she's been in Los Angeles for that. Uncle Finn has been around still. He is a lot of fun, he's like the only person who can still pick me up and toss me around like a little kid. It's hard to go out with them when they're both here though, because weird people are always taking pictures of Aunt Rachel and acting like she's some kind of big deal because she sings so good. Uncle Kurt told me that I'm the only one spared from Aunt Rachel's "supreme ego" and that it's good that I don't get what all of the fuss is about. According to Momma, Uncle Kurt is my fairy godmother. She says that pretty much from the moment I was born he started making me clothes because seeing me in Baby Gap outfits would have killed him. It's actually pretty awesome because now he gives me clothes from his clothing line before they come out. He even made my dress for the wedding today.

Who else? Oh, Uncle Artie and Uncle Sam live in Brooklyn. I don't really see them much because they both work a lot. I like to ride on Uncle Artie's wheelchair, and Uncle Sam lets me see how many things I can fit in his mouth. Usually Oreos or grapes or something. Once he let me see how many Skittles I could fit in there. It was a lot, I lost count.

Aunt Tina, Uncle Mike, and Aunt Mercedes all live in California, so I see them the least. They're always fun though. My friends are super jealous because they think Aunt Mercedes is cooler than cool. She recorded a song she wrote with Momma and it was a big hit and now she's super famous. I didn't tell my friends that the voice in the background of the song is Momma. I don't know why, it kind of feels special to know that secret. They both sound so good on the song.

Uncle Mike is one of the professional dancers on Dancing with the Stars, which is pretty cool too. He meets a lot of famous people. I don't really know what Aunt Tina does. All I know is that Momma keeps saying that she's getting "prematurely baby crazy," whatever that means.

So basically, this is going to be an awesome day. Not just because my moms are finally getting married, but because they're getting married with all of our favorite people around. I can't wait to have my whole family back together again.

* * *

**SANTANA**

Quinn is in a different room getting ready and I miss her. It's really the strangest thing because she's been mine almost 10 years, I see her every single day, and yet the moment I was told I _couldn't_ see her it was like she'd been kept from me forever. Thank God for texting.

**Me: I miss you**

I don't care that I sound pathetic. I don't care that I'll see her in a couple of hours, when we finally make this official. I just miss her.

**Quinn: I miss you too, babe. Is Skylar with you?**

**Me: No, she's been sticking pretty close to Britt I think.**

**Quinn: If you see her, can you tell her to start getting ready? You know she'll be outside playing until the last minute if we don't get her going.**

**Me: As you wish, my love.**

**Quinn: You know I'm rolling my eyes at you, right?**

**Me: Wouldn't expect anything less, dear.**

**Quinn: I love you**

**Me: Love you more**

I'm grinning like an idiot, re-reading our texts. Somehow she still makes me feel like I'm 14 years old, seeing her face for the first time. I mean, without all of the confusion and angst over why exactly I thought she was so beautiful, of course. My stomach still does flips if I close my eyes and remember that exact moment. Quinn looked like an angel, and that has never changed. I'm actually a little nervous that I won't be able to speak when I'm standing across from her today. She's always had the power to render me speechless without any effort at all.

"Hey Mom, how's the getting ready going?" Skylar asks as she places her chin on my shoulder and looks at me in the mirror.

I look into her pretty green eyes and I just can't believe how big she is now. She's taller than you'd expect, considering her parents. Her limbs are thin and lanky, but she's very much so the picture of her mother's grace. Skylar is poised and mature, oftentimes very in tune with the people around her. A broad smile spreads slowly across her lips as she watches me looking at her.

"Mom? Earth to Mom."

"Yeah, sorry hun…it's going, I'm not too excited to sit still while they do my hair and I miss your mom already, but it'll be worth it in the end, right?"

"Right. I'm going to wait until the last possible minute to get my dress on, I don't want to get it messed up. But Aunt B did say that I have to stop juggling my soccer ball in the living room and go take a shower." Skylar looks annoyed until she catches my expression and realizes what she just said.

"Skylar. You were juggling the ball _in the apartment_?"

"Ummm…"

"Okay, we're not going to talk about this right now. In fact, we're going to pretend this conversation never happened. You are going to go get in the shower. Your soccer ball is going back in your bag where it belongs when you're inside. You are not going to mention this to your mother. Am I perfectly clear?"

Skylar looks relieved and abashed at the same time. She knows that Quinn would not be having any soccer in the house without some kind of lecture or punishment and that the only reason she is getting a bye today is so that we don't have any issues before the wedding.

"Yes, Momma. I'm sorry."

"Don't let it happen again."

"Cross my heart." Skylar gives me a light kiss on the cheek and then turns to go, just as the hairdresser comes in to get started on my hair.

I watch her leave and remember saying the same exact words to her two years prior, just after Quinn and I got back together after a couple of months apart. It was such a difficult time for us both, but we worried about our daughter more than anything. We tried so hard to shield her from the arguing and the change it caused between us, but each time I picked her up and dropped her off at Puck's I could see that she knew more than we wanted her to know. I don't know how we ever imagined that she wouldn't notice that she never saw Quinn and me together anymore, the two people who had raised her on a day to day basis, who she lived with and snuggled in bed with when she had a bad dream. We were so naïve, but I'll never forget Skylar's face the day we both went to pick her up and bring her home from Puck's for good.

* * *

June 2017

"Momma!" Skylar shouts as I walk into her dad's small apartment, her arms wrapping around my legs. Puck gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and then walks into the kitchen so that I can speak to Skylar alone.

I reach down to pick her up into my arms, groaning facetiously at how big she is. "Hi there, Sunny Sky. How goes it?"

"It goes. What are we doing today?"

I smile, because I finally get to tell my little girl what she's been waiting to hear. "Well…I was thinking we could go home today and hang out with Mommy. How does that sound?"

Skylar looks at me for a long time, her eyes narrowed in concentration. She reminds me of Brittany when she does this, as if she's reading your face to see what you're really saying.

"We're really going home?"

It's a heartbreaking question, because I know she's been confused by staying with Puck. They are very close, and I know she loves spending time with him, but her "home" has always been with me and her mom. We've done an awful job of explaining things, but thank God for Brittany and her brilliance. She stepped up where Quinn and I failed, and I'll never be able to express my gratitude to her for that.

"That's the plan, baby girl." Quinn's voice behind me actually sends chills up my spine. I was so afraid we'd never find our way, but she's here with me again and we're okay.

Skylar's lip quivers as she whispers "Mommy." She slides out of my arms and walks slowly towards her mom, her little shoulders hunched as she fights not to cry.

Quinn picks her up and squeezes her tight as her own tears start to fall, and I have to look away. The past few months have been torture for all three of us, and probably for Britt and Puck too. The guilt weighs heavily on my chest as I listen to my daughter cry in her mother's arms.

"Santana," Quinn says, gesturing me over when I look up at her.

In a moment we're all hugging together and my whole world feels right again.

"I love you both so much," I whisper, my voice strangled by tears.

Quinn pulls back to look at me and give me a soft peck on the lips before resting her forehead on mine.

"Momma, we're going home for real now, right? We're all going to be together?" Skylar asks me, her eyebrows lifted and her eyes wide.

My heart breaks that she even has to ask me that, but I understand why she's so uncertain.

"Yes, baby," I tell her, relieved once more that Quinn and I found our way back to each other.

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

* * *

**QUINN**

I'm not nervous about marrying Santana. That would be ridiculous. She's been by my side for over a decade, and in a few short months it'll be exactly 10 years since we got together as an actual couple. No, I'm not afraid of marrying Santana. I am, however, terrified of standing in front of every single person we love and completely bawling my eyes out because I have imagined this day for my entire life and it's finally here.

Once upon a time, there was a tall blue eyed guy in my imaginary wedding, waiting for me at the end of the aisle. I dreamed of the knight in shining armor, the man who would come along and make my dreams come true. Oh, if I could go back to that younger version of me and slap some sense into her. Not because I envisioned a man in my future, but because I somehow thought that I _needed_ one to make myself complete.

And now…Santana completes me in so many ways, but I've learned to see myself as a whole person on my own. She forced me to face myself and find my own strength, to stop believing that my success was dependent upon someone else, even her. It was hard, and we fought, God did we fight, until she finally stepped back so that I could see what she saw. I was devastated when she moved out, but…surviving the struggle to stick together when it felt like we couldn't be farther from one another, that was when I knew for sure that we would make it as a couple.

Now here we are. After all of the waiting for the right time, after all of the planning, the day has come. From today on, I get to call the most amazing woman on earth mine forever and forever. It's kind of overwhelming, really, so I think it's entirely plausible that I might just manage a single word before breaking down into tears, just like I did when I finally asked Santana to come home after our separation.

* * *

June 2017

Santana and I are supposed to meet later this week, just like we have every single week since she temporarily moved in with Brittany. I have spent so many of the days in between and most of our time with one another so angry that it has been hard to even look at her when we are together, but every single week, without fail, she comes to see me. I don't know how she has done it, holding her tongue while I've accused her of quitting on us, of quitting on _me_. Santana, with all of her wit and her sharp tongue, has mostly accepted my abuse with hardly a word, except an occasional _I'm sorry_ as she wipes the tears from her face. It's gut wrenching, because I have wanted her to fight back, to give me something to keep my anger alive. Instead, her clear devastation has reminded me week after week that this beautiful woman left _for _me, that her heart is as broken as mine.

Now that I'm in a healthier, stronger place, our meetings have been so much better. We saw each other twice two weeks ago, and three times last week. We've actually talked about a lot of our issues and acknowledged mistakes. I've been graced with Santana's beautiful smile and heard her laugh for the first time in months. The last time we parted she even gave me a soft, lingering kiss. I know she misses me as much as I miss her, and even though she is the one who chose to move out, I know Santana is waiting for me to bring her home again.

So I've decided not to wait until our next visit to ask. I'm standing in front of Brittany's door, as nervous as the first time I told Santana I loved her, waiting for someone to answer my knocking. The door swings open, revealing a very surprised, gorgeous Latina.

"Hi," I breathe, unable to actually speak out loud.

"Quinn," she replies, as if my name is the sum of everything she could possibly say.

I suddenly have no words. I shrug my shoulders as the tears start to fall, and I shake my head in apology as I draw a shaky breath. Before I can even try again, Santana has me in her arms and is planting firm kisses to the side of my face.

"Shhh baby, shhh. It's okay, Quinn. I love you. I love you so much," she whispers urgently against my cheek.

I sob even harder and press my face into her neck, my arms pulling her tightly against me. It strikes me suddenly how this is exactly where we started, when I was pregnant and scared and needed my best friend. It's always been Santana. She is it for me.

I lean back and wipe the tears from my eyes so that I can look into hers.

"Come home."

"Really?"

"Yes, Santana. _Please_ come home."

"Okay."

It's a simple response, but the way she kisses me after she says it tells me so much more. With her guard let down, I can see how afraid she has been of losing me, how anxious she has been to come back.

"I love you, Santana Lopez."

"I love you too, Quinn. Call Puck. Let's go get Skylar."

* * *

**SKYLAR**

It's time. Holy cow. I'm nervous-excited, it's hard to stay still. I keep walking back and forth between the separate rooms my moms are in to check that they are ready, even though they've been ready for a little while now.

They both look _beautiful_. Like, I know that all of my parents are ridiculously good looking, because they look like movie stars, but today especially my moms look like they belong in magazines. It's funny too because everyone always assumes they like the same things, but they're totally different in a lot of ways. Momma likes to say that she's the flash and Mommy's the class, but I don't know, they both look really good, just in different ways.

Momma's long black hair is loose and curled at the ends, falling around her bare shoulders. Her dress is snug and her heels are tall. Mommy has her hair pinned up with a pretty little crown on her head. She said what it's really called, but I can't remember. Something with a "t." Her dress is fluffier and it has a long train behind it. She's wearing sandals with barely any heel, so it'll be funny seeing Momma look much taller.

"Sky, grab your flowers and get ready," Dad tells me as he walks up. He looks really handsome today.

I'm walking out first, then my dad is going to walk down the aisle with Aunt Brittany, and then Gramps is walking both of my moms down the aisle at once. He's like a dad to them both, which some kid tried to tell me once was weird, but I told him to pound sand because I think my family is way more awesome than anyone else's. I'd rather be awesome than normal, so whatever.

"Ready, SkyLo?" Aunt B asks.

I nod and stand just like Mommy showed me, nice and tall with my flowers in both of my hands. I keep my eyes on Aunt B because she's supposed to give me the signal.

"Okay, go," she says with a smile and my belly does a little flip.

I feel weirdly shy as I walk down the aisle with everyone watching me. I know pretty much every person here, but it's still awkward. The judge-dude is smiling at me when I reach the end, so I give him my best smile and step off to the side to wait for everyone else to get into place.

Dad and Aunt B don't look nervous at all in front everyone. They walk to where I am and then split off. Aunt Britt will stand behind Momma, and Daddy will stand behind Mommy.

The music changes and I smile up at Dad until he nudges me and I turn to see Gramps with my moms on his arms. Not surprisingly, they are both already teary eyed. In fact, _everyone_ looks like they're about to cry and for some reason that makes me want to laugh. This is the happiest day ever.

Gramps kisses my moms on their cheeks and goes to sit down. That's my cue to move so that I'm directly across from the judge-guy, a few steps back from where Mommy and Momma are facing each other. They hand their flowers to Dad and Aunt Britt and reach out to hold each other's hands. Daddy looks awkward holding the flowers, so he puts his hands behind his back. I give him a knowing grin and he makes a pretend angry face at me.

"Good afternoon," judge-dude says, and I turn my attention back to him, "It is my honor to welcome you to the union of Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray. As I'm sure everyone here knows, this wedding has been a long time in the making. Best friends at 14, in love at 15, and parents at 16, Santana and Quinn have met challenge after challenge with strength, optimism, and a devotion to each other and their child that is truly inspiring. I have been officiating marriages for the great State of New York for nearly 30 years, and I can honestly tell you that these young women have one of the most remarkable stories of friendship, love, and commitment that I have ever heard. It is an absolute privilege to stand here today and marry Santana and Quinn in front of all of you, and especially in front of their daughter, Skylar.

They have each prepared something to say to each other. Quinn, you won the coin toss, so you are first."

I smile because I got to flip the coin for them, and Momma had tickled me relentlessly after it came up heads for Mommy. Momma looks at me and winks, because she remembers too.

* * *

**SANTANA**

Quinn reaches her hand up and brushes away her tears, and then takes a small note that Puck is holding out to her. I take a deep breath and try not to start crying before she even starts.

"It has been nearly a decade since I gave you a letter that contained the following quote, but it still seems as perfect as ever—

'_I revere you. I esteem and admire you above all human beings. You are the friend to whom my soul is attached as to its other half. You are the most amiable, the most perfect of women. And you are dearer to me than language has the power of telling."_

There are truly not enough words to express my love for you, Santana. You have been my rock, my hero, my constant through every up and down of the past 11 years. You have opened my eyes to the strength inside of me. You have taught me to be fearless. You are the most amazing mother, my best friend, my counterpoint, and my love. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life by your side."

Full on downpour of tears. Like, I can hardly even see Quinn's earnest hazel eyes through the blur of tears filling my eyes. My soon-to-be wife reaches out to wipe my tears away and then smiles at me. I see her lean forward slightly at the waist, and I know she wants to give me a kiss.

"Not yet, Mom," Skylar whispers loudly at Quinn, who smiles broadly and leans back again. The quiet is broken by light laughter.

Sky looks at me and gives me an exaggerated wink. Lord help us when she eventually figures out how to do it right.

Judge Myrer looks at me and smiles, "You're up, Santana."

* * *

**QUINN**

Santana reaches into her dress and pulls a piece of paper from between her boobs. She smiles at me when I roll my eyes and then takes a deep breath.

"Quinn, you have fascinated me from the very first day that I met you, and somehow, after all these years, you continue to fascinate me today. I am moved by your kindness, your empathy, your ability to see the very best in people. You have touched me with your open heart, your willingness to face your fears, your incredible love for Skylar. You willed this family into existence before Noah and I even saw it as a possibility. You are the anchor point to which we stay moored, keeping us together even in the worst seas. I am forever in awe of you, inspired by you, and so very deeply in love you. I can't wait to stand by your side for the rest of my days. I love you, beautiful."

I let out a long exhale and smile through my tears. I brush them away and look to Judge Myrer so he can get the show on the road.

"Now, in front of your beautiful friends and family, let's get you ladies to actually tie the knot! Quinn, you're up first:

Do you, Lucy Quinn Fabray take Santana Diabla Lopez to be your wedded wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love her faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?"

I look as deeply into my almost-wife's beautiful brown eyes as I possibly can when I say, "I do." Her wide grin fills me with happiness and she squeezes my hands excitedly.

"And do you, Santana Diabla Lopez take Lucy Quinn Fabray to be your wedded wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love her faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?"

Santana's grin widens as she responds, "Hell YES I do!" to resounding cheers and laughter from our guests.

"Skylar, may we have the rings?" Judge Myrer asks with a smile.

Sky hands me two simple white gold bands that we quickly slip onto each other's hands, Santana raising my hand to her lips after she places the ring on my finger. I feel like we couldn't smile any broader if we wanted to.

"By the power vested in me by the great State of New York, I now pronounce you legally married. You can now _finally_ kiss!"

My wife, my beautiful, radiant, wonderful wife, pulls me to her by my waist and I wrap my arms around her neck as she slowly, ever so slowly, smiles into a relatively chaste kiss. I can't contain myself though, and kiss her back exuberantly, pulling her mouth to mine and earning a loud whoop from the crowd.

Santana shakes her head at me when I finally lean back, and I give her another quick peck before we turn to face our guests. Skylar steps up to us and accepts kisses on each cheek without complaint, throwing us a positively beaming smile as she steps aside to stand with Noah.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present for the first time, Quinn and Santana Lopez!"

I beam at San when Judge Myrer announces us to even louder cheers from our friends and family. We hadn't made any decisions on name-changing, but with Skylar already bearing my wife's last name and the fact that I hate being tied to my father by mine, it seemed logical to me to present myself as a Lopez going forth.

Santana tilts her head to the side and sneaks a quick kiss to my cheek as we start down the aisle.

We're married. _Finally_.

* * *

**SANTANA**

I'm dancing with my wife, the first of many dances I will share with her during our life together. Quinn is the definition of a glowing bride, it is truly impossible to look away from her today. She picked an amazing song for this dance, her soft voice singing along gently into my ear occasionally.

_We don't need calligraphy  
To write a fancy story  
Kings and Queens return to thieves  
To find what we've been holding  
You and Me  
We can take the world_

_Oh sweethearts give sweet compliments  
But our love goes without saying  
Though you make it hard not to spill my heart  
Every time I see you swaying  
Darling You and Me  
We can take the world_

_'Cause they can write stories  
They can sing songs  
But they don't make fairy tales  
Sweeter than ours  
They can climb mountains  
High into the sky  
But they can't take the world  
Oh, Like we can take the world_

_Oh I can see  
The future you and me we last forever  
In the rising tide  
No fear or fight  
That we can't face together  
Darling You and Me  
We can take the world_

_'Cause they can write stories  
__And they can sing songs  
__But they don't make fairy tales  
__Sweeter than ours  
__And they can climb mountains  
__High into the sky  
__But they can't take the world  
__Oh, like we can take the world, the world, the world._

_Oh  
__Ain't it just like love to find us  
__Ain't it just like love  
__Ain't it just like love to find us  
__Ain't it just like love  
__Ain't it just like love to find us  
__Ain't it just like love_

_'Cause they can write stories  
__They can sing songs  
__They don't make fairy tales  
__Sweeter than ours  
__Oh they can climb mountains  
__High into the sky  
__But they can't take the world  
__Oh no, no  
__Like we can take the world._

Quinn leans back to look at me as the song starts drawing to a close, her hazel eyes alight with excitement and love and joy. Her happiness lights everything inside of me until my heart feels like it could burst.

"Is this day everything you dreamed it would be, baby?" I ask her lightly, studying her beautiful face.

I get the patented breathy Q laugh in response before she answers, "Not even close, Santana. This is so much more than I could have ever dreamed to be my future."

She gives me a soft smile-kiss as we stop swaying and just stand amidst the applause from all of our favorite people, here to celebrate with us.

"I love you, pretty lady," I whisper to her.

"Love you more, babe."

We're _married_. Quinn is mine forever. I can't imagine anything better.

* * *

**A/N 2: The song is Take the World by Johnnyswim. If you haven't listened to their stuff, definitely check them out. Uh-mazing.**


End file.
